


Draco Malfoy’s After-midnight Maelstrom

by Aynn_Ward



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adoption, Children, Domestic Fluff, Eventual Smut, Family Fluff, M/M, Mpreg, Post Mpreg, Time Skips, frolicking kids
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-29
Updated: 2019-04-18
Packaged: 2019-08-09 07:37:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 99,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16445582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aynn_Ward/pseuds/Aynn_Ward
Summary: Things get a little crazy at Draco Malfoy's house at 2:00am. The kids should be fast asleep, but they're not...and the neighbors aren't very happy about it. Then in walks Officer Potter.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Previously a one-shot, but I've been convinced to change that (on ffn). Seventeen chapters are currently finished...will post at least once a week (and hopefully that'll give me time to finish the story).
> 
> Comments are GREATLY appreciated! How else am I to know if I should keep posting?! ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * children (a lot of them)  
> * baby crying  
> * annoyed neighbors  
> * Muggle police at the door (Harry)  
> * snarking

Draco Malfoy’s After-midnight Maelstrom  
And so it begins...  
July 15, 2007

~ o ~

From a dead sleep, Draco Malfoy woke abruptly and immediately felt quite confused. For a moment he didn’t know where he was or what was happening...or why he’d been yanked from such blissful oblivion and thrust into chaos.

And then he heard and recognized the wailing squall of a newborn—his newborn!

Well, newborn-ish. His daughter, Aria Iris Malfoy, was nearly three months old now, but things had been difficult, to say the least.

Sighing, the exhausted man rolled from bed and reached for his discarded nightshirt, then hurried for his daughter’s room. He wanted to get there quickly, before his other children heard their sister’s cries and woke as well, demanding his attention.

Flipping on the hall light, then dialing it down so the light wasn’t glaring down at him, the blond man moved into his tiny daughter’s bedroom and plucked her from her cot. She was wet, of course, so he made quick work of her nappies, then held her close, cooing to her as they headed for the kitchen.

“Sissy okay, Daddy?” one of his sons asked as soon as he’d set foot on the stairs.

“Yes, Caelum, she’s fine. Just wet and hungry,” Draco explained. “It’s late. You should return to your bed.”

“But I’m hungry too,” the child whined, following his father instead of going back to bed as had been suggested.

Sighing, Draco looked down at his eldest child. Caelum was seven...and as precocious as a child could be; it was pretty much useless to argue with the child. “That’s absolutely not true, Caelum, but...very well. You can help me with Aria. She’s extra angry tonight, I think. Then you can have some warm milk. Then bed!”

Caelum grinned. “All right. I’ll get her bottle,” he said as he rushed forward to help his father.

Draco’s oldest child was extremely helpful. Caelum never seemed to tire of his siblings or care that there were so many of them—and for that Draco would be eternally grateful.

But things didn’t go very smoothly on this night. As soon as Draco had stuffed the bottle’s nipple into his daughter’s small sucking mouth, he heard a thud and more cries coming from upstairs.

“Shite!”

“Bad word, Daddy,” Caelum reminded him.

“I know. Sorry. Would you go check on the twins for daddy?” Draco asked—since it sounded like at least one of them had rolled out of bed. This was a nightly adventure that was never much more than a few tears of fright.

Caelum nodded and hurried off.

But the crying didn’t stop. Thinking something might be seriously wrong, the blond secured his daughter in her carrier and hurried from the room. After only one step from the room, his daughter was yowling again too—angry that her sustenance had been withdrawn and that she was no longer in her father’s warm arms.

“Daddy, Orion fell out of bed again,” Caelum informed him as soon as he’d entered and scooped up the four-year-old who was sobbing—which was immediately chorused by the boy’s twin.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

“Shut those brats up!” came a muffled scream through the wall Draco shared with a neighbor—who was not at all child-friendly.

“Are we brats, Daddy?” asked Caelum.

“Of course not,” Draco responded as he physically checked his crying son for injuries. Orion appeared to only be startled, but that didn’t prevent him from wailing loudly.

RING, RING!  
RING, RING!  
RING, RING!

Caelum was on his feet immediately. “I’ll get it, Daddy!”

“No. Just ignore...it,” the blond objected, but it was no use, his eldest child had already fled the room.

“Damn it!” Draco cursed.

“B-bad. W-word. Da-da,” the twin Draco was holding scolded between hiccups.

At this, Draco couldn’t help but laugh. Curling an arm around each boy, he scooped them up and carried them downstairs—he needed to get back to his screaming baby—and he prayed the one child that was still sleeping would remain that way.

“It was the mean lady next door, Daddy,” Caelum reported to him as he entered the kitchen. “She said she’s calling the police.”

Rolling his eyes—because the bitch had been threatening to do that for about two months now—Draco went to the fridge to get his boys something to drink.

“Don’t worry about her, Caelum...she’s just angry that we woke her up again.”

“I don’t know. She used really bad words.”

Frowning, Draco quickly warmed some milk for his boys, then picked up his daughter and settled himself down in a chair to feed her. “I’ll talk to her.”

“She said not to bother with your e’cuses...to tell them to the officer when he gets here.”

“Brilliant!”

Sleepily, Draco fed his daughter and watched his sons quietly drink their milk. Though they exhausted him, he adored each of them.

KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK!

“I think it’s the cops, Daddy,” Caelum said.

Frowning again, Draco wearily got up. “Might be. Here, take your sister, Cael.”

Caelum moved into his father’s chair and held out his arms to take his sister...and settling her there, Draco left the room.

KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK!

“All right, already! I’m COMING!” Draco bellowed. Exasperated, from all the crying, banging, shouting, ringing, and now knocking, Draco yanked the door open. “WHAT?!”

But then his eyes bugged out...and he immediately slammed the door shut.

“Go away, Potter!”

“Malfoy?” came the shocked voice of Harry Potter.

“Yes, Potter, it’s me. Go away!”

“I can’t do that, Malfoy. A few of your neighbors called the police. Claimed there might be child abuse going on here.”

“I assure you, I am not abusing my children.”

“You have children?”

“Obviously I do...I just said I did,” Draco snapped. Then, feeling a sudden wave of nausea hit him, Draco rested his forehead on the door and swallowed a few times. Oh no! No, no, no, this cannot be happening! the blond thought as tears filled his eyes. “Go away, Potter. Please, just go away,” he groaned.

“Malfoy? Are you okay? Open the door.”

“I’m...fine, Potter. Please...just go.”

“No can do. I’m here on official business. Open the door,” Draco’s former classmate said, giving the door a firm thump!

And then a sharp pain in his abdomen brought the blond to his knees. “FUCK! Not again!”

“Malfoy,” Potter said warningly. “Don’t make me blast the door open. I don’t want to, but I will if you don’t open up.”

At this point it didn’t matter anymore. Draco knew it was too late to protect himself. He thought living among Muggles, in a place far away from other wizards, would be enough, but apparently it wasn’t. And so he gathered himself, rose to his feet, and open the door, then turned and went to a small couch, flinging himself down upon it when he got there.

~ o ~

Pushing Draco Malfoy’s front door open enough to enter, Harry stepped over the threshold and closed the door, then followed the blond man into his lounge. It was a decent sized room, more a home office than a lounge, Harry realized once his eyes adjusted to the low lighting, and connected to a formal dining room.

“All right, Malfoy. What’s going on here?” Harry asked as he inched himself further into the room. “We received no less than three calls that the children at this residence have been screaming all night...one lady even insisted that they were being mistreated.”

“Pfft!” Draco scoffed. “That is simply untrue...as you can plainly hear, Potter. My children were crying, yes...but not because they were being harmed.”

The dark-haired man frowned. “Where are your children?”

Draco snorted. “Four of them are in the kitchen.”

This caused Harry to blink with surprise. “At this hour?”

“My daughter required her 2:00am feeding, so, yes, the entire household is up. Well, most of us. One of my boys is still asleep. Thank Merlin! And one of my sons rolled out of bed. He’s fine though, I assure you.”

“I see.”

“Daddy?” came a child’s voice from the kitchen doorway. “Aria’s fussing. I think she likes it better when you feed her.”

“Right. Bring her to me, Cael,” the blond man instructed.

The boy, whose tousled hair was just as blond as his father’s, disappeared for a second, then quickly reappeared holding a baby...with two other blond boys in tow.

“Hello Sir,” the tallest of the three boys said after handing off his sister. “I’m Caelum Vincentius Malfoy.”

At this Harry smiled and knelt down beside the child. “Well, hello there, Caelum. I’m Officer Potter. And who might these two be?”

“They’re my brothers, Orion and Corvus. They’re ‘dentical twins.”

“I can see that. It’s nice to meet you boys.”

The twins smiled shyly, then stuffed thumbs in their mouths.

“And that’s our sister, Aria,” Caelum continued. “She’s new, but she’s getting big. Daddy says the more she grows the less she’ll scream at night.”

“Hmm. I’ve heard that’s true,” Harry said, sending a grin over at his school-day rival.

“You can’t meet Scorpi though...he’s sleeping,” the seven-year-old continued—then held a finger up to his mouth and said, “Shhh!”

Copying the boy, Harry held a finger up to his own mouth. “Shhh.”

“Do you have a gun?” Caelum then whispered. “My daddy says guns are dangerous.”

Chuckling, Harry glanced over at Draco, then back at the boy. “No, I don’t and...your daddy is right, guns are extremely dangerous.”

“Do you have a—”

“All right, Caelum,” Draco interrupted, “that’s enough. Take your brothers upstairs. I’ll be up straight away.”

“Yes, Daddy. Nice to meet you, Officer Potter. Please don’t ‘rrest our daddy. It’s not his fault that we’re loud.”

This made Harry chuckle again. “Don’t worry, Caelum, I’m not going to arrest your dad,” he promised, then smiled as he watched the three grinning blond boys leave the room. After they were gone, Harry looked at their father again. Draco had tilted his head back against the sofa, his eyes closed again, but was still managing to hold a bottle to his infant’s mouth.

“They are adorable, Malfoy...I’ll give you that.”

“Of course they are, Potter, they’re mine!”

Snorting, Harry rolled his eyes. “Haven’t lost your arrogance at all, have you?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Harry watched as the blond man shifted to accommodate his fussing daughter, waiting for the man to look up at him again. When he did, Harry spoke again. “So, you have four children.”

“Five...and one on the way actually.”

Harry’s brows shot up. “Been busy, have you?”

Draco clenched his jaw, obviously fighting to keep a sarcastic remark from flying out of his mouth.

“That’s quite a handful,” the dark-haired man continued. “Where’s your wife?”

Huffing, Draco shook his head. “At this point, I wish I had one.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m gay, Potter...I have no wife!”

Harry blinked. “Oh. Well, if that’s the case...what the hell is going on here?”

“Ever heard of male pregnancy, Potter?”

“Well yes, I’ve read about it some.” And he had. It was something he was seriously considering, since he too was gay and wanted children in his future. “So, does that mean you have a husband instead?”

“If only it were that easy. Why the fuck did it have to be you?!” Draco all but whined.

“Why did what have to be me?” Harry asked, confused.

“Why are you prancing around Muggle London in copper uniform? I thought you were an Auror.”

“Hmm. I was. But Kingsley expected too much of me...wanted me to become the Ministry’s next poster boy...or something. I couldn’t take it anymore. Had to get out! But I still wanted to go into law enforcement. You always did say I had a hero complex.”

Draco snorted.

“So, this seemed like the way to go,” Harry finished with a quick gesture down at his attire. “Still get to chase the bad guys, but don’t have to deal with the Ministry.”

“Interesting.” Looking down at his daughter—who was now sleeping—the blond smiled briefly.

“So, no child abuse going on here then?” Harry persisted.

Shaking his head, Draco closed his eyes and leaned back onto the sofa again. “Obviously not.”

Shifting on his feet, Harry studied the exhausted-looking man sitting in front of him. “Just out of curiosity, why don’t you just...you know, use magic to block the noise of crying children? A well-placed spell or two does wonders.”

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Draco sighed, then opened his eyes. “I can’t, Potter. I’ve got...an issue with magic. Why do you think I’m living here in Muggle London?”

“An issue? What sort of issue?

“The sort that lands me pregnant if I’m around it!” the blond growled after glaring at the other man. “More specifically, wizards.”

“Wait. What?”

“You are...just as ineloquent as you ever were, Potter,” Draco accused, clearly unsure whether he should be irritated with the dark-haired man or amused by him.

“Excuse me for not understanding, Malfoy, but you’re not really explaining the situation. I’m here on several 999 calls, so if you’d kindly tell me what’s happened, I’ll be on my way.”

“There’s nothing to tell really. I had crying children and my neighbors didn’t take it kindly at 2:00am. And I can’t really do magic to prevent the noise from disturbing them. Simple as that.”

Harry nodded. “All right. I got that. Do you want to explain why you have so many children and don’t have any help? Where are your parents?”

“Well, not that it’s any of your business, Potter, but...apparently I’m afflicted with a rare condition where the magic of other wizards gets me up the duff. First there was Goyle, then—”

“You had sex with Gregory Goyle?” Harry asked, his nose wrinkled with disgust.

“NO! I most certainly did not!” Draco snapped. “It was his magic. I spent a lot of time with him after our trials. He was...is...mentally impaired and I.... Never mind! I spent time with him...comforting him...in a non-sexual way...and I ended up pregnant. It’s a magic thing.”

“I see.”

Draco frowned. “I don’t think that you do.”

“No, I’ve heard of this.”

“Granger?”

Harry nodded.

“Figures!”

“It’s quite interesting.”

“Not really!” Draco snapped. “I can’t even be around my own father, for fear that his magic will impregnate me. And my mother won’t visit, because she thinks her magic will either hurt me or that she’ll carry father’s magic with her and that his will. I’m a pariah!”

“So, how is it that you have five children then. Most of the time wizards remove themselves from society when this happens.”

Draco’s brows shot up. “I did that, idiot!” the blond snapped. “But the delivery guy who brought my groceries...out to my very secluded house in the country...must have been magical in some way and I ended up knocked up. Again! That’s how I got my sweet Aria here. I’m not sure about the twins...I swear I was careful, but...obviously not! Scorpius, on the other hand, was a normal, non-magical birth. After doing some research, Mother and Father suggested that, if I were to marry, the magical issue might dissipate over time...if I could create a bond with a witch. I tried, but...it didn’t work and Astoria left me when I became pregnant with Aria.”

Harry frowned. Scorpius was the only one of Draco’s children that he’d not seen and he was curious—about whether the child looked as much like his father as the others did. But he tried to focus. “She just left her son with you?”

“She left my son with me, Potter,” Draco corrected.

“Well...yes, but...hers too.”

Draco shook his head. “Not anymore. She was a nice girl, but she grew into quite the cold woman, Potter...never would have been a good mother any of my children. Not sure why I chose her in the first place. I guess I just hoped, but....” He shrugged. “Anyway, this brings us to my current issue.”

“And what’s that, Malfoy?”

“Well, seeing as you’re the only wizard I’ve been in contact with in months, I need to inform you that I’m expecting.”

Harry frowned. “Expecting what?”

“A baby, you moron!” Draco snapped. “Seeing you at my front door...feeling your magic...you did me in, you git! Thanks a fucking lot!”

Harry’s eyes widened. “Me?”

Draco nodded...and watched as Harry’s knees buckled and he dropped onto the sofa.

“But...we don’t even like each other.”

Draco snorted. “Our magicks don’t seem to give a flying fuck, Potter. Besides, it’s not like you have to stick around...Merlin knows I can do this myself.”

“What?! No. I’m not leaving him...or her. Or you. I don’t walk away from responsibilities, Malfoy.”

“Of course you don’t! You’re such a Gryffindor,” Draco complained. “Really though, it’s not like you fucked me and actually got me pregnant, Potter...it’s a magical essence pregnancy, nothing more.”

“All male pregnancies are magical, Malfoy.”

“Either way, you’re free to leave and not look back.”

“Like hell I will!” Harry growled. “We might not have had sex, but you have my baby in there and I will be a part of his or her life!”

It was Draco’s turn to blink in surprise—then he shook his head. “Actually, Potter, the child will be one hundred percent mine...if you’ll just leave. Your magic helped put this child here,” he said, his hand automatically going to his stomach, “but if you’re not around during the pregnancy or afterwards, then the child’s DNA will shift and, discarding all the Potter parts, will become solely mine. Like I said, you are free to go.”

“Nice try. I’m not leaving.”

For a moment, Draco just glared—then he shrugged. “Fine then. Suit yourself, Potter. Welcome to fatherhood!”

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * time skip (one month)  
> * integration (of Harry into Malfoy family)  
> * cuteness with kids  
> * Healer home visit  
> * bickering  
> * horniness

Harry’s Life, After Thirty Days in Haste  
One month later...  
August 15, 2007

~ o ~

Harry had just finished his shift for the Met and had hurried home to the flat he semi-shared with Draco Malfoy—semi-shared, because, for the last month, Harry’d been living in the flat that was just below Draco’s home.

But instead of going downstairs to his own private space, Harry let himself into the blond’s flat. He knew the other man would grouse about it—him just letting himself in and making himself at home—but Harry also knew that Draco secretly craved the attention. Even Harry’s attention.

Stopping just inside the flat, Harry listened. Lack of noise told him that everyone was either somewhere in the upstairs of Malfoy vast home or out in its peaceful backyard garden. He guessed garden and headed that way.

Once in the kitchen and peering out the massive back windows, Harry could see that they were all outside. Dressed in a crisp white button-up shirt, with its sleeves rolled up to three-quarter length, and faded blue jeans, Malfoy was sitting, barefooted, in his favorite lounge chair, holding little Scorpius—while the boy drank from a sippy cup—and staring down at baby Aria—who was sleeping peacefully in her carrier beside them. Caelum, Draco’s oldest, sat at a nearby table—probably drawing or working on his penmanship; the boy had the writing skills of a ten-year-old—and the twins played in a small sandbox that Harry knew Draco had handmade for them.

Smiling at the scene of happy domesticity, Harry turned and went to the stove to put the kettle on, then shrugged out of his jacket and jumper and tossed them over a chair. While waiting for the water to heat, Harry lifted the lids of the pots on the stove and tasted what the blond was cooking for dinner—spaghetti. Draco wasn’t technically cooking for Harry, but it was nice that the other man allowed him to join them each night. Harry hadn’t realized how lonely he was until he started staying at Draco’s...and now that he was here, he didn’t want to leave. He very much enjoyed the company—even Draco’s snarkiness—and adored the man’s children.

When the tea was ready, Harry put the cups of tea on a tray and grabbed a beer, then went outside to join everyone in the garden.

“HARRY!” the twins squealed in unison as soon as they saw him coming.

Setting down the tray and his beer, Harry handed the blond his cup, then turned and knelt down to hug the twins. They immediately wrapped sandy arms around him and covered him in sloppy kisses.

“Hi guys! How was your day?”

“We’re playing in da san’box,” said Orion.

Grabbing Harry’s hand and pulling, Corvus said, “Come see da tower we made.”

After looking at the twins’ sandcastle—which Harry told them was ‘a masterpiece’—Harry went to Caelum and ruffed the boy’s blond head, then leaned over to look at what the child had been working on.

“Nice job, buddy!” Harry said as he looked over the seven-year-old’s repetition of ‘The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog’ and the little animal doodles at the top of the page. “You’ve got to have the best penmanship I’ve ever seen. I especially love your Qs and this dog is brilliant!”

Caelem grinned. “Thank you,” he said. “You know...I’d really like to have a dog. Dad says dogs are a lot of work, but...I’d really like to have one. What do you think, Harry? I promise I’d take care of it if I could have one.”

Frowning, Harry purposely ignored the gray eyes he felt drilling into his back. “Well, your dad is absolutely right, Cael, dogs are a lot of work. So, we’ll have to discuss it...at a later time,” he added after looking back at the scowling blond man.

Picking up his beer, Harry slid onto the lounge chair next to Draco’s and eyed him.

“Hi.”

“Nice save, Potter.”

Harry smiled.

“Just let yourself in again, did you?” groused Draco.

Chuckling, because he’d known the other man would complain, Harry ignored the question and posed one of his own. “How are you feeling today?”

To stall, Draco sipped his tea, then shrugged. Keeping his voice low—barely above a whisper—he said, “Can’t keep much down in the mornings, but I’m fine right now. Same as every other day. What time is that Healer you called coming?” he asked, hoping to change the subject.

“He should be here in...” Harry stopped and glanced at his watch, “about thirty minutes. Did you eat the soda crackers I brought home yesterday?”

Draco nodded.

“Good, because Hermione said—”

“I said I ate them, Potter!”

For a moment, Harry just stared at the blond. He never quite knew what would set the man off, but he was trying to be understanding—and wished Draco would do the same. His wishes must have been easily read in his expression, because the man sitting next to him frowned.

“Are you sure it’s safe...to have another wizard in the house?” Draco asked.

Harry nodded. “I talked to Hermione and she did some research...then referred me to the top specialist in the field. Just...try to relax,” he said as he brought his beer up to his mouth.

“I would, Potter, but, if you’ll recall, I’ve been through this before and...there’s nothing relaxing about it.”

Harry sighed. “I know. I’m sorry.”

Draco glared at him. “You know nothing!” he snapped—causing the children to look at the two adults. Sighing, Draco ran a hand through his hair, then cuddled the child in his arms. “I’m...sorry.”

Harry nodded acceptance. He had no interest in arguing. “Didn’t you have a Healer for them?” he asked, tilting his head toward the children.

“Well yes, but...only for the initial diagnosis, then later for the deliveries. No one was willing to make housecalls for a former Death Eater and I...I was afraid to go to St. Mungos.”

“Hmm. Well, that’s not going to happen this time. You’re going to have regular visits...even if I have to force a Healer to come here at wand-point. Also, Hermione has assured me that, at least while you’re expecting, no wizard’s magic can harm you...or impregnate you...so there’s no excuse to avoid St. Mungos.” Harry paused. “I’m surprised you haven’t read up on all this.”

“I did, but I wasn’t sure.”

Harry bobbed his head to show that he understood how terrifying this must be. “Anyway, the Healer will be here shortly, so enjoy your tea while you can,” he said as he reached for his own.

Huffing, Draco sipped his tea and scowled at Harry. “Beer and tea, Potter? Classy.”

Harry just laughed. He now had Draco Malfoy’s number...knew that the blond immediately went on the offensive when he felt vulnerable. And so Harry said nothing. Instead, when Aria started to fuss, Harry put down both his beverages and picked her up.

“Hello there, pretty girl,” he cooed as he settled her into the crook of his arm. “How was your day? Did your daddy and brothers take good care of you? Did they feed you and play with you and love you?”

Draco rolled his eyes. “Potter, she doesn’t understand any of that nonsense.”

“True, but it doesn’t matter what I say as long as I say it sweetly,” Harry argued, never taking his eyes off Aria or changing his cooing tone. “Does it, sweet baby? You just love to be talked to, don’t you? Yes, you do.”

Aria grinned, then gurgled a tiny laugh.

“See daddy,” Harry said to Draco, still using the baby voice. “She just loves it.”

Draco laughed. “All right, Potter, I’ll give you that.”

~ o ~

“So, Mr. Malfoy, your pregnancy is coming right along,” the Healer said as he removed his gloves, discreetly Vanished them, then turned pleasant hazel eyes on the expectant man. “As you know, these magical essence pregnancies...MEP, for short...move quite a bit quicker than the standard female pregnancy or even the magical male pregnancy, so it looks like you’re due in...ahhh, approximately sixteen weeks...give or take a—”

“Wait. What?” Harry interrupted. He’d been just sitting there quietly listening, trying to take things in, but thought that maybe he’d zoned out while the Healer was talking, because...only sixteen weeks? Weren’t pregnancies supposed to be about nine months? Harry wasn’t a math genius or anything, but he was fairly sure that nine months, minus one month, did not equal only sixteen weeks left.

“I thought I’d mentioned that,” Draco said, his forehead bunched up. “Didn’t I?”

Harry shook his head. He and Malfoy had talked about a lot of things, but not the length—or lack thereof—of his pregnancies. “I...I don’t think so. I think I would recall if you had.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

“It’s...okay. I guess we still have a lot to talk about,” Harry said with a shrug, then looked back at the Healer—his mind still processing. I’m going to be a daddy in less than three months. Oh Merlin!

Tilting his head and looking through his thin wire-rimmed spectacles, the Healer looked from one man to the other, then started talking again. “So, your embryo is approximately two months along in gestation. He or she is now about one and a quarter inches long from head to buttocks and weighs about a third of an ounce. Are you interested in knowing the child’s sex?”

Harry and Draco looked at each other and shrugged.

“What do you think?” Draco asked.

Harry frowned. “I don’t know. You’re carrying the child. I think you should decide.”

Draco bit his lip.

“It can wait, obviously, if you’d like more time to adjust to this,” the Healer suggested. “I can perform the spell to check the sex next time...or any time after, if you wish to wait longer. Or you can wait until the child is born and be surprised.”

Both Harry and Draco nodded. Harry was thinking that he’d like to know, in order to prepare, but figured he’d go along with anything Malfoy wanted.

“All right then,” the Healer said as he picked up a quill and prepared to write on the sheet of parchment that unrolled itself in front of him. “Let’s go over what you may be feeling, Mr. Malfoy. Fatigue?”

Draco shook his head.

Harry shook his head too, but in a different way. “Draco, you’re either resting or napping nearly every evening when I get home and...you sleep like the dead,” he contradicted. “You’re exhausted.”

At this Draco glared. “You try staying home all day with three young children, a toddler, an infant, and a baby in your belly, Potter, then you can suggest that I shouldn’t be tired.”

“I’m not saying you shouldn’t be tired, just that...you are tired,” Harry argued.

Draco huffed. “Fine then. Yes, I’m fatigued. I’m bloody exhausted. Happy now?” he growled at the dark-haired man.

Harry shook his head. “Not exactly. But you need to be honest...with all of us.”

“Yes, dear,” the blond snarked sarcastically.

Clearing his throat, the Healer tried to hide an amused smile. “All right then,” he said. “How about nausea and/or vomiting?”

“He can’t keep anything down,” answered Harry.

This made Draco scowl. “That is simply untrue, Potter. I occasionally vomit...in the mornings, but the nausea usually dissipates after a few hours.”

Harry scoffed. “I need you to define occasionally, because I don’t think it means every morning,” he argued.

Sighing, Draco said, “Potter, compared to how shitty I felt when I was pregnant with the twins, the illness I am currently experiencing is only slight, so I’m going to go with occasionally. Deal with it!”

Harry frowned, then gave a clipped nod, but promised himself that he’d find out more about pregnancy.

“Are we ready to move on?” Draco’s Healer asked.

Both men nodded.

“So, this is all quite normal, Mr. Potter...Mr. Malfoy is doing wonderfully.”

Harry sighed with relief.

“Now, how about the frequency of your urination?”

“Seems normal to me,” Draco answered.

“Constipation?”

Draco blushed. “Also normal.”

“Excellent,” the Healer replied and wrote a few things down.

“How about heartburn and indigestion?”

“Nothing serious,” Draco said.

Harry shook his head. “You did get indigestion from that curry take away I brought home last week.”

“Potter, I get indigestion for curry even when I’m not pregnant, so...zip it!”

Playfully, Harry stuck out his tongue, then pretended to zip his mouth closed, causing the Healer to chuckle.

“How about bloating and/or flatulence?” the older man asked next.

Harry burst out laughing—then slapped a hand over his mouth when the blond glared at him.

“No more than normal,” Draco finally responded.

“Are you having any food cravings or aversions?”

“Hmm. Now that you mention it, I could go for some of those mint humbugs from Hogwarts.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “I am not Apparating all the way up to Hogwarts to get you mint humbugs, Malfoy, so forget it!”

Draco pouted. “Fine.”

Grinning, the Healer scratched a few things down on his parchment. “Just a few more questions, boys. Headaches?”

“Malfoy always gives me a headache,” Harry quipped at the same time that Draco said, “No. I’m good. No headaches,” then glared at Harry.

“Dizziness and/or faintness.”

Draco shook his head.

“Excellent.”

“How about irritability, mood swings, irrationality, and weepiness?”

Harry started laughing. “Those first three describe Malfoy to the tee.”

“Potter, if you don’t shut it, then you won’t be invited to our next appointment!” Draco threatened.

At this the Healer cleared his throat. “All right then. Everything looks good...and quite normal, considering everything. Do either of you have any questions or concerns?”

Harry shrugged and shook his head, saying, “I don’t think so,” just as Draco nodded and said, “Yes. What about sex?” he asked.

At this Harry blinked, then just stared at the blond.

“I mean both give and receive. Can I have sex?” Draco elaborated, his eyes on the Healer.

“Certainly,” the Healer said, giving a hearty nod—but Harry just stared at the blond.

Draco shrugged. “What? In the past, I was really horny while pregnant. I mean, extremely, but...there was no one here with me. Now there is,” Draco explained, then gave another little shrug. “Is it wrong for me to think about it?”

Harry shook his head. “Well...ahh...no, but...but we’ve never...with each other,” the dark-haired man stammered.

“I know that, Potter. Don’t you think I know that?” the blond asked. “But still, I know the desire will be there and...you’re here. You said you weren’t leaving, so...why not?”

Harry frowned. “We’ll have to talk about it, I guess.”

Draco nodded. “Most definitely.”

“I just didn’t think...you’d want to...with me,” Harry went on.

Draco rolled his eyes. “I’m a man, Potter. Sex is important. I’ve gone years without sharing sex with another human being...do your really think I’m going to pass it up now that someone’s been made available to me? Besides, it’s not like you’re a troll or anything. In fact, you’re quite fit.”

This just caused Harry’s face to heat with...something. Pleasure? He wasn’t sure what, but it had been a long time since someone had made him blush. And Malfoy’s compliment made him feel good.

“Well then,” the Healer said when it appeared like the two younger men weren’t going to say anything more, “you two are good to go, I think. You seem healthy as a Hungarian Horntail, Mr. Malfoy, so...sex is perfectly safe. And you can contact me at anytime if you have any questions or concerns, but you should go for it if you’d like, as long as you don’t do anything too crazy. As you know, the baby is quite protected in there.”

Nodding, Draco grinned and looked at Harry, but Harry twisted his hands nervously. Over the month that he’d been staying at Draco’s—though not actually at Draco’s—Harry’d grown quite attached to the man. But he didn’t know if he wanted sex from him.

Swallowing, Harry brought his eyes to the blond’s and immediately relaxed. He could certainly try. Right? After all, this had to be harder on Draco than it was on him.

Reaching out, he took Draco’s hand and squeezed it.

~ o ~

While the blond was upstairs settling baby Aria into a dry nappy and a clean sleeper, then down into her cot, Harry was down in the kitchen finishing up the dishes. It had been a long day—both on the job and after work—and he was feeling pretty spent. But, tired as he was, he would not eat Malfoy’s cooking and not help clean up the mess afterwards.

But Harry felt good as well. His stomach was full—Draco was a surprisingly good cook—as was his heart warm, and he was enjoying the last of his beer as he tidied up. He would have never, in a million years, even considered Draco Malfoy for a friend, let alone a potential partner, if this hadn’t happened, but...there was definitely something drawing him to the man now. It might be the knowledge that the other man now carried his child...held a small piece of Harry within his body.

Surely that has something to do with it, Harry thought as he ran the sponge over the countertop, then rinsed it off in the sink.

But there was more to it as well. Harry knew that there was. He felt it in his bones. He hadn’t realized just how lonely he was before this happened, but now he knew, without a doubt, that that’s why he worked so much—because he didn’t want to go home and be alone.

It helped that Draco Malfoy was rather nice to look at. There was no denying Harry’s attraction to the blond. Not anymore anyway. Because Harry was extremely attracted to Draco. Harry wondered at this. He used to think the pointy-faced man was an arrogant git. Well, to be honest, he still thought Draco to be an arrogant git, but that apparently wasn’t stopping him from wanting to bend the blond over the nearest piece of furniture.

This made Harry blush...and then laugh as he reached for a dish towel to dry his hands.

“What’s so funny, Potter?”

Turning, Harry noticed that Draco’s gray eyes were narrowed on him—and shining with mischief—and that his lips were thinned into his customary little smirk—a smirk which Harry used to see as a sneer, but now saw as rather playful. And Malfoy’s body language went right along with what Harry saw on his pointy face. He was standing in the doorway, leaning against the jamb, and looking quite sexy—and Harry wondered how long he’d been watching.

“What? Oh. Ahh. Nothing interesting, I guess,” Harry answered after a short pause...as he brought his beer bottle up to his mouth in an attempt to hide his embarrassment.

Draco rolled his eyes and pushed off the doorjamb, then went to the refrigerator. “You’re a shite liar, Potter. It’s a wonder you were able to bluff your way through the war and win,” he said as he pulled another beer out and popped off the cap.

“Hey! You are not drinking that!” Harry objected. As soon as he’d seen the bottle, he was across the room and in Draco’s personal space, his hand on the bottle.

“I was getting it for you, you imbecile!” the blond growled. “Although, I reckon that one bloody beer isn’t going to harm the baby. Still...wasn’t getting it for myself.”

“Oh. Um. Sorry,” Harry said, removing his hand from the bottle. “But...I don’t think I should have any more. Three’s more than enough, I think.”

“You’ve had five and...what’s one more at this point?”

Harry frowned.

“And you’re off for the next three days, so why not indulge?” Draco reasoned as he pushed the bottle into Harry’s hand and smiled. “Bottom’s up.”

Taking the beer, Harry took a swallow—and then another—but never did he take his eyes off Draco. The blond was smirking again.

“Are you trying to get me drunk, Malfoy?” he asked.

Draco shrugged. “Just trying to loosen you up, Potter. You’re so...tightly wound.”

“I am not,” Harry protested. “I’m just.... Whoa! W-what are you doing?” Quickly, Harry maneuvered himself away from the blond’s questing hands.

Looking predatory, Draco followed him. “You said we could have sex. I want sex,” he said plainly.

Harry blinked. “I didn’t actually say that. What I said was that we’d have to talk about it,” he corrected—but found himself backed up against the counter with Draco pressed up against him. “Draco, we haven’t talked about this yet.”

“What’s there to talk about, Harry?” the blond asked, weaving his fingers into Harry’s hair and pulling slightly. “I’m suddenly feeling as randy as a fifth year and...I want you.”

Frowning, Harry shook his head and looked up into Draco’s seductive gray eyes. “No, I’m convenient, is what I am. You don’t really want me.”

Draco waved a hand dismissively. “What difference does it make,” he asked, making it a statement, not a question. “The point is that we’re both here...and that we’re both in need.”

Harry continued to frown. Hadn’t he just been thinking about this? And then he felt Draco’s arousal push into his hip and he groaned—because it felt good.

“Come on, Potter, I may have your child growing inside me, but I didn’t even get to feel you put it there,” Draco all but whined as he slid his hands down over Harry’s chest, then back up again—then brought his lips to Harry’s stubbly jaw.

Shuddering, Harry closed his eyes and sighed. It felt so good to have someone touching him.

“I’d really like to feel you inside me,” Draco continued, punctuating his words with another tilt of his hips, causing Harry to groan again.

“We s-shouldn’t,” Harry protested weakly. “It’s too soon.”

“Soon? Merlin, Harry, I’ve wanted to fuck you since we were fifteen.”

His eyes snapping open, Harry stared. “You have?”

Draco nodded, as he nibbled from Harry’s chin to his ear.

“But...you were such a little shit to us...to me and my friends.”

Draco shrugged. “Yeah, well, you weren’t all that nice either. Besides, what was I supposed to do, stand up in the Great Hall and announce it to the entire school or...waltz up to you in one of the corridors and snog you senseless?”

Imagining Malfoy doing either of those things brought a smile to Harry’s lips. “I probably would have punched you...or Ron would have.”

“That’s my point,” Draco said, his mouth back on Harry’s jaw, but quickly moving to his neck. “Your people would have killed me.”

Harry chuckled. “They wouldn’t have killed you.”

“Cursed me then,” the blond corrected as he nibbled.

Harry had moved his hands to Draco’s waist and was tentatively running them up and down the other man’s sides. What the blond was doing felt wonderful...was making him want to return the gesture. There was no question that Harry wanted to take Draco up on his offer. Sex would be brilliant right about now! But it probably wasn’t such a great idea. Not yet anyway. And so he slowly leaned back and gently pressed the flat of his hands against Draco’s chest and shook his head.

“I still think it’s too soon...Draco,” he said, adding the other man’s first name to soften the blow. He still wasn’t used to using it all the time, but seeing as they were now expecting a baby, Harry felt like he should be making changes. “This is all so very new,” he continued, “and we’re only just learning to like each other.”

Sighing, Draco backed off—and adjusted himself as discreetly as he was capable—then leaned on the counter opposite the dark-haired man. “I knew you wouldn’t want to.”

“What? No. I want to,” said Harry. “I really do. I just think we should wait. And get to know each other a little better first. You know, beyond what we already know.”

Draco nodded. “Yes, I know what you mean and...I suppose you’re right,” he said.

“I am?”

“Yes,” Draco said, giving a decisive nod. “And this way you can court me properly...the way one is supposed to...prior to impregnating them.” He smirked.

“You want me to court you?” Harry asked, a small smile on his lips.

“Well, take me out for a nice meal a few times. I think I deserve at least that much.”

Harry grinned. “I can do that.”

“And I wouldn’t be opposed to flowers,” Draco said hopefully. “And chocolate. I love chocolate.”

Laughing, Harry nodded. “Consider it done.”

Draco shook his head. “No way, Potter, I’ll need to see this to believe it.”

“Fair enough. When would you like to go out?”

Draco frowned. “I don’t know, Potter. You’re going to have to go home and call me...like it’s a normal date.”

“Call you? You have a Muggle phone?”

“Of course.”

“Hmm.”

“Unless you’d like to ask for Father’s permission,” the blond continued. “That would be the proper way to show your intentions.”

Harry snorted. “You can forget that, Malfoy. I am not going to ask Lucius Malfoy’s permission to do anything.”

Draco shrugged. “Suit yourself, but...you are going to have to be in the same room with him sooner or later. You know this, right?”

“Let’s make it later,” Harry said gruffly.

“I’m being serious.”

“I know you are, but really...let’s make it later. And speaking of late,” Harry said as he pushed off the counter and moved slowly to stand in front of his pregnant...partner? “I’d better go, so you can get your beauty sleep.”

Draco scoffed. “As if I need beauty sleep, Potter! But fine...leave me alone...all by my lonesome...alone in my cold, empty bed,” he said with a dramatic sigh.

Laughing, Harry leaned in and gave the other man a firm kiss. “Goodnight, Draco. I hope you sleep well,” he said, then started for the door. “And I promise to come up first thing in the morning.”

“What, not coming up for Aria’s 2:00am feeding?” Draco quipped as he followed.

Frowning, Harry stopped walking and turned around. “I can. Do you want me to?”

“I want you to sleep in my bed, Potter, but...I was only teasing. Now go, before I drag you upstairs and bind you to my bed.”

“Kinky.”

Draco laughed. “You have no idea,” he said—then gave the dark-haired man a little shove. “Goodnight, Harry.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * time skip (one month)  
> * dates (summary only)  
> * parental Floo call (Narcissa)  
> * parental visit  
> * more horniness (Draco)  
> * demanding Draco (sex)  
> * smut

Dates, Parents, and Sex  
Another month passes...  
Friday, 15 September 2007

~ o ~

In his first floor lounge, Draco lay back on the sofa and sighed. He was completely exhausted, but he’d had an absolutely wonderful third date with Harry.

For their first date, Harry had called him and asked him out—as Draco had told him was proper for courting—then surprised him with reservations at Ciao Trattoria,¹ a fine, upscale restaurant on Diagon Alley that was nearly impossible to get into these days—or so Draco had read, since he’d not actually been able to get out in quite some time. But, popular as it was purported to be, Harry’d managed it somehow, making Draco wonder about the other man’s connections. The dark-haired man had claimed to have semi-abandoned their world of magic, but...obviously not completely. And Draco was even more curious when the owner and head chef of the place—Gregorio Conti—stopped by their table to make sure their meal was everything they’d hoped for. This had Draco looking between the two other men, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. He was well aware that he was not the first man Harry had dated, but...had Harry previously dated the restaurant owner and, if he had, why would he take Draco here on a date? Draco quickly decided that he was imagining things and, in the end, the evening turned out to be lovely and romantic and...amazing!

Their second outing together was nice too, though it didn’t go as planned. It turned into a group date, because they’d had to bring the children along. It wasn’t supposed to be that way, but their sitter cancelled at the last minute leaving them stuck. They could either, cancel their plans and try to reschedule—which neither man wanted to do—or bring the children along. And so they brought them with, but...damn that Granger for having to stay home with her own daughter, who’d turned up with a cold on the day of his second date with Harry.

And damn his mother’s sister too, for needing a sitter and leaving her grandson—Harry’s godson—with them as well!

But that turned out well too. Teddy Lupin, whom Draco hadn’t met before, was a perfectly pleasant child, if a little colorful...quite literally, with his hair and eyes that frequently changed color to fit his mood. The boy was almost two years and three months older than Caelum, but the boys instantly got on. This opened Draco’s eyes to what his children were missing. Because of his strange condition, his children had had only each other as companions. They weren’t lonely, per se, but Draco now realized that they might not be getting what they needed. Especially Caelum. The twins had each other and Scorpius and Aria were just too young to be overly affected. But, as the oldest, Caelum spent a lot of time alone—or mothering his siblings—so this was good for the seven-year-old boy. He now had a friend who was not a sibling.

So, the second date started off rocky. After deciding that they’d take the children with, Harry had to go out and make some changes to his car. And, though Draco was impressed with Harry’s use of wizard space, he wasn’t all that thrilled with the Muggle vehicle Harry forced him to ride in. The blond had been raised to view the bloody things as death traps, but Harry’d promised to take it slow and, for the most part, did. It was only Draco who had an issue with the car though...the kids loved it! And the date turned out to be rather nice. They’d picnicked in some Muggle park, eating an interesting variety of Muggle foods—juice for the kids and sodas for them, cut carrots and celery with dip, strawberries, cut apples and orange slices, potato crisps, pretzels, crackers, and trail mix, turkey, ham and cheese sandwiches on fancy croissants, and several types of cookies for dessert—and watched the children play.

Harry’d brought all sorts of things to do, for the children and themselves—balls to throw and kick and chase, a strange flying disk thing that Draco was strangely interested in learning about, a couple board games, and a few other lawn-type games, which Draco only watched them play...though quite curiously.

And when they’d tired of those games, Harry taught them several other Muggle games for children. He started them off with a game called Simon Says, a game which was familiar to Draco, but by its Latin name, Cicero dicit fac hoc—Cicero says do this! After several rounds of that, Harry moved them on to a game called Red Light, Green Light. This one was reminiscent of their ride in that blasted Muggle death trap contraption, with all its stops-and-gos, and so was somewhat of a turn off to the blond man. But the children seemed to love it, so it therefore made Draco smile in spite of himself. And last, they played something called Duck, Duck, Goose! This one sent the children running around and screaming, making Draco cringe a bit at first. But again, they all seemed to be having fun and that made Draco very happy.

And that was date two.

For their third date—which had just come to an end—Harry had taken him to a nice brunch in Hogsmeade, then shopping—because everyone knew how much Draco loved spending money. He’d been a bit nervous about Apparating, after all this time, but Harry hugged him and kissed him and told him it would be all right—then whisked them away while Draco’s eyes were closed. At first the blond was angry—because he felt tricked—but that was soon forgotten as Harry dragged him around Hogsmeade, letting him go into any and all shops he wished—and it pretty much was all the shops. Date three finished up with sweets from Honeydukes—and some mint humbugs that the dark-haired man had obviously obtained from Hogwarts especially for him. It was a wonderful, if exhausting, day.

And now Harry was upstairs checking on the napping children, so that Draco wouldn’t have to. Their sitter today had been Harry’s friend Luna. Whatever the loony woman had done with the children had them completely knackered. But Draco was glad for it, because he too could hardly keep his eyes open. And so he lay there listening to the lovely silence—until his Floo flared.

“Draco, darling, are you there?” came his mother’s somewhat panicked voice.

Cringing, Draco stifled a groan—because she’d hear it and not be pleased—then sat up and responded.

“Yes mother, I’m here,” he said, wondering where she thought he’d be—and secretly glad she’d not called on him earlier in the day when he was out.

“Oh! Good. I’m so relieved to see you, dear. I just received an owl from Lady Zabini saying that her son mentioned that he’d heard from Pansy, whose mother said you were sighted by that awful Greengrass woman. In Hogsmeade, of all places. I, of course, told her that was impossible, but I had to call on you to be sure. Is everything all right, dear?”

Draco bit his lip in frustration. Fuck! Should have known better than to go out in public, he scolded himself. Bloody gossips!

But he couldn’t say those things to his mother. And he knew he couldn’t lie to her, but this wasn’t exactly how he wanted to tell her he was pregnant again.

“Draco. Why aren’t you responding?” she asked. “Is something wrong?”

“Well...ahh...no, nothing’s wrong.”

“Oh, no,” she all but wailed. “It’s happened again, hasn’t it?

“I’m fine, Mother. It’s—”

“I just knew Muggle London wasn’t a good idea,” the continued. “Didn’t I tell you that?”

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Draco let his mother rant herself out, patiently waiting for her to take pause. And when she did, he let out a long sigh.

“Are you through?” he asked.

“Oh, Draco, this has got to stop,” she said. Then, when he didn’t say anything—because what could he say—she asked the obvious. “Can we please come see you, darling?”

Sighing again, Draco nodded. “Of course, Mother. Will you be bringing Father?”

“Yes. It’ll take a minute. I’ll have to go up to his office and get him, but...we’ll be there shortly.”

Draco nodded and watched as his mother disappeared from his Floo, then flopped back on the sofa again—wishing he could pour himself a Firewhisky.

~ o ~

By the time his parents stepped through the Floo—the one on his ground floor—Draco had managed to pull himself together. He’d also prepared several cups of tea, took out a bottle of beer for Harry, and poured his father a stiff drink—which he knew the older man would need as soon as Harry came downstairs. Or possibly before.

“Oh darling, you look exhausted,” his mother complained as she glided into the kitchen and wrapped her arms about him.

Draco tried to smile. “Yes, Mother, I am quite tired, but...I assure you that I’m fine. Or so my Healer tells me.”

“Your Healer, dear? You found someone to help you this time?” she asked hopefully, her hands gently caressing her son’s face.

“Yes, and I’m in very good hands, I promise,” Draco said with a small smile, not mentioning that the only reason he’d gotten help this time was because Harry Potter had taken care of it.

His mother sighed. “Oh. I am so glad. Isn’t that wonderful, Lucius?” she asked, turning toward her husband.

“Yes. Brilliant!” he said dryly.

“Hello to you too, Father,” Draco said, his tone equally cold as he handed his father the glass of Firewhisky he’d poured, then picked up his own tea and headed for the garden—at least his peaceful garden would calm him—leaving his parents to follow him. And they did.

His father had been quite different after the war ended. Not cruel in any way, but more than a bit aloof; it was very hard to take. And Draco’s odd condition just made things more difficult. It was like his father didn’t know how to handle the situation and so pretended he didn’t have a son. When he was young, Draco had wanted to grow up to be just like his father. Not so much anymore.

His mother, on the other hand, tried to over-compensate. She didn’t feel that she could visit her son—because she was convinced it would harm him—but she called him often and sent him and the children gifts regularly. In a way, his being pregnant again was a blessing, because that was the only time she felt it safe to see him. But seeing him also made her sad...because she knew she’d not be able to see her son—or his children, for that matter—after her sixth grandchild was born, and that was heartbreaking.

By the time his parents reached the garden, Draco had already settled himself down on his favorite chair and was absently sipping his tea. As soon as she neared. his mother gracefully lowered herself into the chair Harry usually used, while his father sat stiffly at the table.

Laying a hand on his arm, his mother asked, “When are you due, darling?”

“My Healer says the second of December,” he answered—then waited for her to become upset. And she didn’t disappoint.

“December!” she burst, causing both Draco and his father to cringe. “But that means I could have been over here helping you and seeing my grandchildren for the last two months.”

“I know, Mother. I’m sorry,” Draco apologized. And he was sorry...sort of. He felt bad for what he’d taken from her—that he’d kept the children from her—but he’d not wanted more company, because he’d been enjoying his time with Harry.

“Where are the children?” she asked next, a hopeful look in her blue eyes. “I’d love to see them. They must be getting so big.”

Draco yawned. “They’re upstairs sleeping, Mother.”

“Oh darling, you look so weary.”

“I am, but not because I’m pregnant. I overdid it today. We were out all day and—”

“Out?” Lucius interrupted. “Isn’t that dangerous?”

“No, Father. It’s perfectly safe to be around other wizards while I’m with child, remember?”

Lucius frowned. “You should have contacted us, Draco, for your mother’s sake. I’m very disappointed in your lack of consideration.”

Draco resisted the urge to roll his eyes and nodded instead. “I’m sorry, Father.”

“So, why don’t you and the children move into the manor while you’re expecting, dear,” his mother suggested—to shift the subject, Draco was sure. “That way I can see you every day until the baby comes.”

“Um. That’s not going to work, Mother,” Draco said. “Things are...different now. More complicated. I’m—”

“How so?” his father cut in.

Draco rubbed a hand over his face and sighed. He did not want to do this and wished his parents would just leave. But he knew they wouldn’t. He also knew that it wouldn’t be much longer before Harry unknowingly came waltzing out into the garden. Just the thought of that happening was giving the blond a sick headache.

“Well, for one, I know whose essence created my baby and he’s...sticking around.”

Lucius’ eyes flew open wide. “Excuse me?!”

“I think you heard me, Father,” Draco said, refusing to repeat himself—and that is when Harry appeared at the back door.

“Draco, Aria just wouldn’t settle back...” he started—then stopped and stared, “down. Well...ahh...h-hello,” he stammered.

When neither of his parents said a word, Draco got up and went to Harry. “Sur-prise,” he whispered under his breath as he took his fussing daughter. Then turning toward his mother, he gently passed the child to her. “Here, Mother, you can hold your granddaughter while I prepare her bottle.”

Clearly shaken from the shock of seeing Harry Potter in her son’s back yard, Draco’s mother accepted the baby into her arms and smiled down at her.

“Oh, Draco, she’s lovely,” she said, her eyes filling with tears. “Pictures do not do her justice.”

Draco smiled. “Thank you, Mother. I agree, of course. Most beautiful baby girl on the planet,” he said, his eyes going to Harry. Normally, Harry might have a teasing quip to go with what he viewed as Draco’s conceit, but he was apparently speechless...for the moment, at least.

“Help me in the kitchen, Potter,” he said firmly.

Nodding dumbly, Harry followed him.

~ o ~

As soon as they were inside the house, Draco started pacing. “I am so sorry about this,” he apologized.

Harry shrugged. “Couldn’t keep them away forever, I supposed. It was just a shock.”

Picking up the beer he’d opened for Harry, Draco took a swig—but only one, because Harry quickly confiscated the bottle from his hand. “Tea for you,” he said, handing Draco the cup the blond had prepared for him, “and beer for me.”

Sighing, Draco set Harry’s tea cup down and moved toward the dark-haired man. “I need you to hold me.”

Not needing to be told twice, Harry immediately brought his arms up and wrapped them around Draco’s still-narrow waist. “We’ll get through this,” he said, his lips seeking out Draco’s. “I promise.”

Draco nodded, then latched onto the dark-haired man’s mouth, seeking the comfort and reassurance he so desperately needed.

After several kisses, their lips parted, but they rested their foreheads together and just held one another.

“What exactly is going on here?” Lucius Malfoy asked from the doorway, causing the two younger men to startle and separate.

Draco looked at his father. He’d apparently entered while they were occupied and had observed their affection...and he clearly didn’t find it acceptable. Draco’s mother, on the other hand, stood there beside her husband, baby Aria cuddled in her arms, but she didn’t look at all displeased. In fact, she looked curious and, if Draco was not mistaken, relieved.

“Hello, Mr. Malfoy. Mrs. Malfoy,” Harry said, then reached for Draco’s hand and clasped it.

Draco knew that, as much as Harry disliked his father, he would have shaken his hand—to make nice—but didn’t extend the offer, because he knew Lucius would have turned his nose up at it. This both saddened him and made him glad—saddened him that his father continued to be an arse, but glad because Harry was such a good man. At least one of them has grown, he thought.

But then his mother warmed him with her own gesture. Handing the baby in her arms to her husband—who was too shocked to resist—Draco’s mother moved toward them and held out a hand for Harry to take.

“Hello again, Mr. Potter,” she said graciously.

“Oh. Call me Harry. Please,” Harry said as he took Draco’s mother’s hand and brought it up to his lips.

“Thank you...Harry,” said Narcissa, “but only if you’ll do the same. Let’s not be so formal. It’s ever so boring.”

Harry’s brows shot up, but didn’t remain there long. “Yes, I must say I agree, Narcissa,” he replied.

“Would someone please tell me what in Salazar’s name is going on here?!” Lucius growled suddenly. “What is Potter doing here?!”

“Well, Father,” Draco said as he took his now startled daughter from his father and passed her off to Harry—who immediately relinquished her to Narcissa again, “It’s really quite simple. Harry was the not-so-Muggle police officer who showed up on my doorstep the night someone in the building called the police on me...for disturbing the peace...two months ago, and his magic impregnated me. When I told him about my condition, he said he wasn’t leaving and...” Draco shrugged. “We’ve decided to work things out.”

“Work things out?” his father repeated. “Are you implying that you’re in a relationship with him?”

Draco glanced at Harry, then back at his father. “Sorry. I don’t mean to imply anything, Father. I’ll be more clear. What I mean to say...exactly, is that, yes, I’m in a relationship with Harry. And it’s a good one. I...” Draco paused. “The kids...they adore him, so...get over it! Now, if you don’t mind, your granddaughter is hungry and, as bleeding exhausted as I am, I need to tend to her needs, not yours!”

Draco turned then and started to prepare Aria’s bottle, but Harry stopped him with a gentle touch. “You’ve done too much today. Please go sit down.”

Tears filling his gray eyes—turning them almost silver—Draco nodded. “I’ll just go freshen up,” he said, then left the room.

Harry quickly took over, fixing Aria’s bottle without saying a word to Lucius Malfoy, but when it was ready he fixed his eyes on the older man and glared.

“Draco doesn’t need this right now, Mr. Malfoy. We both know that you don’t like me and, you know what, I don’t much care for you either,” he said. “I think you’re an arrogant bastard who’s done a lot of awfully horrible things, hurting loads of people in the process...including Draco. You seem to think that you can use your money to buy your way out of trouble and I don’t like it. It’s wrong! But I’m willing to overlook a lot...for Draco’s sake. For Draco, I’d do almost anything...even get along with you. Now, I would like to see you extend the same courtesy I’m showing you and, if you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all. Are you capable of this?”

“Of course, he is,” Narcissa answered for her husband. “Isn’t that correct, dear?”

His eyes narrowing and his lips thinning, Lucius Malfoy scowled. Harry couldn’t help but think the older man’s face looked as if he were chewing on something sour—much the same as he’d seen Narcissa’s face in the past, though not anymore. But then the Malfoy patriarch glanced at his wife and Harry couldn’t miss the meaningful look the blonde woman gave her husband. After a moment of obvious inner struggle, Lucius Malfoy gave a clipped nod. “I will certainly make every attempt, Mr. Potter...for Draco.”

Sighing his relief, Harry nodded, then looked at Narcissa. “I’m going to go check on Draco. You are both welcome to come up to the lounge.”

~ o ~

After a very long late afternoon and evening with Draco’s parents, then time spent with the children—playing with them, then getting them ready for and settled into their beds—the two men retired to Draco’s bedroom. They hadn’t talked about sex since Draco had tried to coax Harry into it a month ago, but they had messed around a few times. No actual penetration had occurred, but they weren’t strangers to each others’ bodies by any means.

Still, while the blond went through his nightly routine in the loo, Harry nervously undressed, stopping when he got to his pants, because he suddenly realized that he didn’t have any sleeping attire at Draco’s.

“You’re not going to need them, Potter,” came Draco’s voice, “so stop stressing over it.”

Frowning, Harry glanced back to where he expected the blond to be, but didn’t see him. “How do you know what I’m thinking?”

Draco poked his head through the open bathroom door and grinned. “Because I know you, Potter. And I know you’re panicking over this. You are welcome to rummage through my drawers and pilfer something to put on, if you’d like, but I’ll warn you right now...I’m as randy as all get out and I’m going to rip them off of you as soon as I can.”

Harry blushed crimson, then said, “Don’t you think you should, you know...get some rest?”

Draco rolled his eyes. “I’ll rest when I’m dead, Potter.”

Harry frowned. “It’s really been a long day, Draco, I’m not sure it’s such a—”

“Potter!” he interrupted. “Do you have a headache or something?”

“Um. No. Why?”

“Because I’m starting to think you’re not actually male.”

“W-what do you mean?”

“Men don’t turn down sex,” the blond said. “I’m horny as fuck and you don’t seem to want to do it. It’s like you’re a girl or something.” Then he paused and frowned. “Or...maybe you just don’t want to do me.”

“Oh, Draco,” Harry burst as he immediately rushed across the room and wrapped his arms around the other man. “It’s not that at all, I promise. I’ve just been...I don’t know...worried, I guess. I’m worried about how quickly things are moving for us and...I’ve never been one to rush into things.”

Draco snorted. “You are so full of shite! I’ve seen you rush into plenty of things. You do remember that I knew you during our Hogwarts days, right?”

“I meant sex,” the dark-haired man whispered. “I’ve never been in the habit of just jumping into bed with people, Draco.”

“I’m not people, Potter,” Draco argued. “I’m the man who’s having your child. And I want you in bed. Now!” he said sternly, poking a slender finger in the direction of his bed.

This made Harry laugh. “Yes sir!” he said, giving a mock salute, then taking Draco’s hand and leading him to the bed. Once there Harry turned and kissed the blond soundly—and Draco fervently kissed back.

“Are we really going to do this?” Draco asked, shivering from the intensity of their kisses.

“Merlin yes!” Harry said as he kissed and nibbled his way down Draco’s neck, then back up, his hands roaming the man’s smooth fair skin. When his fingers reached the waistband of the blond’s underwear, he hooked his thumbs inside and pulled them down—causing Draco to sigh as he was freed.

But, unsure what was expected or what Draco could take in his condition, Harry only trailed gentle fingers over him. “What would you like, Draco?” the dark-haired man asked. “I’m not sure what to do.”

“I w-want you to t-touch me,” Draco stammered, bringing his hand to Harry’s and moving it to his own hardness.

And so Harry wrapped a hand around Draco’s hard length and stroked him—eliciting several mewing gasps—while bringing their mouths back together.

“Do you want me to suck you?” Harry asked after a long snog.

Draco shook his head. “Not unless you want this to be over before you get your cock in my arse,” he said, now making an attempt to stop Harry’s strokes. “I want to feel you inside me. Please.”

Harry didn’t need to be told again. He immediately halted his ministrations and pushed the blond back into a sitting position on the bed, then maneuvered him so that he was lying flat on his back. Looking Draco’s body over carefully, Harry eyes zeroed in on the blond’s belly. At just four months pregnant, Draco was only just beginning to show—though most wouldn’t even notice at this point—but knowing that his child was within the other man’s body totally did something to Harry. He was amazed...amazed that his baby was in there and thrilled that Draco was sharing this with him. Reaching out, Harry caressed the blond’s nearly-flat stomach, then brought his shining eyes to Draco’s.

Leaning down, Harry kissed Draco’s stomach, then went lower and took him deeply into his mouth.

“If you don’t stop, Potter, I’m going to blow!”

Laughing around the blond’s pulsing cock, Harry took a few more pulls—causing Draco to groan loudly—then allowed it to slip from his mouth, so that he could whisper, “Lubricus.” As he spoke, he watched Draco shudder, his eyes rolling back into his head.

“Hurry!” Draco urgently hissed, as if he couldn’t wait, even one more second, to have their bodies joined.

“I’m trying,” Harry said as he fumbled to position himself between Draco’s spread legs. And then he was there and ready and pushing...hard. And Draco was pushing equally as hard, trying to impale himself on Harry’s rigid member, and gasping with each push. And when Harry’s body was flush with Draco’s, his cock fully seated, they both froze and stared into each other’s eyes.

“You all right?” asked Harry, unsure and worried.

Draco nodded. “It’s been a while, Potter. Give me just a minute,” he said. “But...yes.”

Harry smiled and nodded. He could definitely do that. “Call me Harry.”

Draco smirked and it looked like he might just use Harry’s surname again, because he knew it would drive the dark-haired man mad, but then his smirk melted into a smile. “All right, Harry, but...won’t you please fuck the hell out of me?” he asked.

Laughing, Harry gently rocked his hips a few times, then pushed hard. “That I can do,” he said, then proceeded to drive into the man under him.

“Is this what you want?” Harry asked after some time.

Gasping, Draco nodded—then moaned when Harry’s cocked brushed his prostate. A second pass at the gland produced a shivering within his body, a third had his balls tightening, a fourth caused him to shudder violently, and a fifth had him coming apart, spilling his seed over himself and, in turn, Harry.

And Harry was right there with him, depositing his essence inside Draco’s body—the way it should have happened in the first place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ¹. I got Ciao Trattoria (and the information about it) from someone else’s site http://mischief-mod.insanejournal.com/5104.html. I’m hoping that link appears so that I’ve given proper credit...again, I did not create it. Also, I found this site YEARS ago, so...if it's no longer there (I haven't checked), I'm sorry.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Warnings" are as follows...
> 
> * time skip (another month)  
> * implied sex  
> * language (probably, I'm not rereading it to make sure)  
> * issues with children  
> * bickering  
> * BJ
> 
> You know, the usual. :p

Changes  
And yet another month goes by...  
Sunday, 15 October 2007

~ o ~

Lying flat on his back, his skin shimmering with perspiration and flushed with pleasure, Draco heaved a contented sigh and turned his head slightly to look at the dark-haired man next to him. After a particularly intense and vigorous romp, Harry’s breathing was also erratic—Draco could see that the other man was trying to regulate it—but he’d obviously noticed the movement beside him and turned his head as well.

“You all right?” he asked.

Draco grinned. “Of course.”

“That was brilliant!”

“Of course,” Draco repeated.

“Pfft!” Harry puffed out as he rolled toward the blond, lazily drooping his arm over Draco’s pale chest and sliding a leg over his slender thighs. “Git.”

“Am I wrong?” Draco asked, his gray eyes sparkling.

For almost an entire minute it seemed like Harry was going to ignore him. The other man spent that minute nuzzling Draco’s neck and licking the sweat from it, while fluttering his fingers over every inch he could reach. Then he brought a hand up to Draco’s face and caressed his cheek, then gently pushed his damp fringe from his forehead and laid a kiss on his parted lips.

“You are not wrong,” the green-eyed man admitted as he tried desperately to drink in all that was Draco Malfoy. “Merlin, you’re beautiful!” he said as his hand—and eyes—traveled back down Draco’s body and settled on the rapidly growing bump at Draco’s middle. The baby was still at the moment, which was hard to believe after their most recent activities.

Draco’s lips quirked up. He fully intended a snarky comeback, but found himself unable. Harry seemed to know just the right words to shut him up.

“You up for another round?” he asked instead.

Chuckling, Harry leaned in and kissed him. “You’re insatiable!”

Draco grinned. “Don’t you just love it?”

“Absolutely, but...give a guy a moment to recover, would you?” Harry teased, though he already felt his cock stirring. Ever since their first time, exactly a month ago today, they’d hardly let a day go by without sex—and most days it took place numerous times. One would think they’d tire, but they didn’t seem to. And they liked to joke that they were making up for lost time. It was wonderful.

“Has it been a moment yet?” Draco inquired as soon as he felt Harry’s hardness pressing against his leg.

But then they heard the distinctive whimpering of Aria and knew that she was up and ready to be fed.

“Or not,” Draco said as he moved to fetch his daughter.

“I’ll get her!” Harry offered, pushing the blond firmly back into the bed. “You stay here.”

Collapsing onto his back and relaxing, Draco nodded. “Thanks. And, get me some juice while you’re down there, would you?” he said as Harry reached the door.

Looking back over his shoulder, Harry smiled. “Coming right up, dear.”

~ o ~

Harry wasn’t gone long, but he returned with a frown. He was hovering a tray of beverages, some fruit, and toast in front of him as he walked—which he magically set down on the bedside table—and lovingly holding Aria, her bottle stuffed in her sucking mouth, as he came in, but...he didn’t look right.

“What’s wrong?” Draco asked, immediately on edge and sitting upright.

“Um. I’m not sure,” the dark-haired man said noncommittally. “What color are Aria’s eyes?”

Not expecting the question, Draco blinked in surprise. “Gray,” he answered, his intonation such that one might think he was talking to a simpleton. “Same as mine. Why?”

Harry continued to frown and quickly went to the windows to draw the curtains, then flipped on every light in the room.

“Harry? What’s going on? Why are you asking about Aria’s eye color? And why the bloody hell are you making it so bright in here?”

“Because...they look bluish to me right now,” he said as he came around the bed and sat down. “Aria’s eyes look blue.”

Draco laughed. “Well, yeah, they do that sometimes.”

“No, Draco, they’re blue, not gray,” Harry insisted, maneuvering himself and Aria so that the blond could see her better. “Look!”

As soon as Draco came into Aria’s view, she stopped sucking on her bottle and grinned at her father. “Ah-goo,” she said, her blue eyes bright and shining.

“What the fuck!” Draco cursed, startling her a bit.

But Aria settled back into drinking quickly enough, her eyes going back and forth between the two men.

“I’ve heard of a baby’s eye color changing, but...this is ridiculous!” Harry said.

Draco nodded and leaned closer to his daughter’s pretty little face to peer at her very blue eyes. “Aria’s eyes have been gray since the day she was born, then suddenly, over night, they’re blue? Don’t get me wrong, I don’t mind,” he said, looking up into Harry’s concerned green eyes. “My mother’s eyes are blue. But this is...very strange.”

“I agree. Hey, would you mind if I Floo Hermione about this?”

Draco rolled his eyes. “Why is it that Granger is always your first thought when you have a question?”

“Weasley,” Harry corrected, for what must be the hundredth time. “And...I dunno. She just always seems to know things.”

“That’s because she’s a know-it-all, Potter!” the blond accused. “But yes, you can Floo her. I guess I don’t mind.” Draco figured he ought to get over his aversion to Harry’s friends since, if he was going to be with the man, he’d have to deal with them on a regular basis—they were there to stay, he was sure.

Harry smiled. “Let’s eat first,” he said as he picked up a cut strawberry and held it up to Draco’s mouth.

And Aria, immediately distracted by the solid food her father was eating, let her bottle’s nipple pop out of her mouth as she reached up to grab a strawberry for herself. Shaking his head, Harry picked up the jar of banana baby food and had a bit shoveled into her mouth before she could offer up any sort of complaint.

“Mmm,” he said, making smacking sounds with his mouth, then giving her another bite when she opened her little mouth again. “Yummy good. Mmm.”

This made Draco chuckle. “You sure are good with her,” he said. “With all of them. I can tell that you love them already.”

Harry smiled. “Who wouldn’t love them?”

Shrugging, Draco said, “I would say a fair few don’t much care for other people’s children, Harry.”

“They’re not other people’s children, Draco...they’re yours.”

“That’s still pretty amazing...especially given our past.”

Spooning another bite into Aria’s mouth, Harry looked at the blond man and frowned. “Well, that’s what it is...our past. I’ve let it go. I had to in order to be with you. I hope you’ve done the same.”

Draco nodded. “Yes. Of course I have.”

Harry’s brow smoothed and he looked back at the baby—as did Draco.

“I can’t believe her eyes changed color,” Draco said after another minute of watching his daughter eat.

“Not just changed,” Harry argued, “they’re as blue as blue could be. It’s incredible!”

~ o ~

Several hours later, Draco and Harry sat in the lounge with Harry’s friends, all four adults staring at Draco’s children—because baby Aria wasn’t the only one who woke up looking different. While she woke up and surprised the men with her new blue, blue eyes, Orion and Corvus shocked everyone with darkened hair. It wasn’t black like Harry’s, but almost as dark, and it was the cause of nearly an hour’s worth of screaming when the twins awakened and saw one another. Only Caelum and Scorpius seemed unaffected by whatever had changed Aria’s eyes and the twins’ hair.

“Maybe you should take them to St. Mungo’s for testing,” Ron suggested for probably the tenth time since he and Hermione had arrived at Draco’s flat.

“You’ve said that, Weasley, and I already told you that that’s not going to happen. St. Mungo’s terrifies them,” Draco growled, his arms wrapped around his twins, their dark heads buried in his chest. They were still whimpering, but no longer screaming, but they couldn’t look at each other without another freshet of tears starting to fall.

“How much more terrified could they possibly be, Malfoy?” Ron reasoned.

“No!”

“Okay. Well...maybe they’re...you know...Metamorphmagi...like Teddy,” said Ron, trying to come up with a reason for what had happened.

Draco scoffed. “I assure you that they’re not.”

“How can you be sure? Tonks was one and she was your cousin,” Ron countered.

“No one’s quite sure where my cousin got that...feature, but it wasn’t from the Black side of the family.”

“So, you’re suggesting that Tonks got it from her Muggle-born father and his Muggle family?” Ron pushed, then shook his head. “I don’t think so. I think it’s a Black trait. What do you think, Harry?”

Harry was sitting next to Hermione while she held Aria, who was sleeping again. “I’d rather not argue without knowing the facts.”

Rolling his eyes, Ron slumped back into his chair. “Fine then, I’ll just sit here...silently,” he groused.

Draco nodded. “Thank you. I’d appreciate that.”

“I like it,” Caelum put in decisively. “Makes them look sorta like Harry, but with daddy’s eyes. And Aria’s eyes are a mix of daddy’s gray and Harry’s green...sort of. It’s nice.”

All four adults smiled. It was true that the children now looked as if they could be related to Harry as well, but having them upset and frightened was not a good thing.

“You guys are lucky,” Caelum went on, talking directly to his brothers. He was now on his knees next to Orion and Corvus, hugging them and trying to give comfort. “You look a little like Harry now. Wanna see?”

Corvus shook his head vehemently and buried it deeper into Draco’s chest. But Orion, the easier one of the two, opened his tear-filled eyes and looked at his older brother, then over at Harry—then he nodded, obviously curious.

Smiling, Caelum held out his hand and waited for Orion to take it. It was slow going, but eventually his four-year-old brother did and Caelum led him into the closest bathroom. After a moment both Harry and Draco—still holding Corvus—followed.

In the loo, there was a little more crying, but no screaming. Orion’s eyes welled up as soon as he saw himself, but he didn’t seem quite as terrorized by the change this time.

“L-look too, Cory,” Orion said, giving his twin’s arm a little tug. “W-we look like d-daddy and Harry.”

“No, don’t wanna,” Corvus whined, his eyes screwed shut.

“Please, Cory, please,” Orion begged.

And Corvus melted—because that’s what Orion did to him.

Slowly, Corvus pulled his head away from his father’s chest and looked, first at his twin, then at Harry, and then at them all in the mirror. Reaching up, he touched his darkened hair and frowned.

“Not black,” he said.

“See, it’s not so bad. Is it?” Caelum asked, looking from one twin to the other. “I think it’s nice.”

Without answering their brother, the twins moved closer to the mirror to inspect themselves—and thirty minutes later they were pointing and giggling.

~ o ~

Once the crisis seemed to be averted and his children were otherwise occupied—two down for a nap, sleeping soundly, and three watching telly, the twins settled on either side of Caelum in Draco’s massive bed—Draco dropped unceremoniously onto an overstuffed chair in his lounge, propped his feet up on its matching ottoman, and sighed.

“At least they didn’t turn into redheads,” Draco said, almost under his breath, with a mild look of disgust on his overwrought face—much to the displeasure of the other three people in the room.

“HEY!” Ron, Hermione, and Harry all bellowed in unison.

“Watch it, Malfoy!” Ron warned—at the very same time that Hermione defended her red-haired family with, “I happen to find redheads quite attractive”—and Harry said, “Be nice, Draco.”

Opening his eyes, Draco looked confused, as if he’d forgotten there were others in the room, then he smiled sheepishly. “Oh. Sorry. I didn’t mean to offend your tender sensibilities.”

As she’d not expected much from the blond, Hermione seemed somewhat appeased by his apology, but Ron glared fiercely. “I hope that damn baby you’re carrying has red fucking hair, Malfoy!” he said.

Hermione’s mouth dropped open. “RON! That was uncalled for,” she scolded.

But Ron looked affronted by her acceptance of the blond’s half-arse apology. “What? It would serve the git right. Am I wrong?”

Hermione didn’t answer and everyone took that to mean she agreed with her husband—and she did.

Looking at his friend, Harry shook his head “Not now, Ron. Please,” he said as he sat down on Draco’s ottoman and lifted the pregnant man’s feet to his lap.

Sighing, Ron shrugged, then flopped down on another of Draco’s chairs. “Fine!”

At this, Draco smirked. “Besides, Malfoys don’t produce red hair, Weasley,” he pushed, causing Harry to roll his eyes.

Removing Draco’s shoes, Harry gave the blond’s foot a pinch. “Stop it, Draco!” he said.

“Ouch!” Draco yelped.

“That so did not hurt...you baby! And, be careful what you say about redheads...my mother was one, so it’s perfectly plausible that a child of mine could have red hair.”

“Ah-ha! Take that!” Ron taunted.

“So, Harry,” Hermione cut in, in an attempt to change the subject. “I Flooed St. Mungo’s to see if they have any records of this sort of thing happing with other magical essence pregnancies and they said they’d have to get back to me. So, I popped over to the Ministry library while you and Draco were busy putting the kids down. I picked up a few books.”

She stopped there and reached into her beaded bag—amazing that she still had the bloody thing—and pulled out three massive tomes.

“You guys should probably read up on this more fully. It’s all so very fascinating, if you ask me. But it looks like previous children of magical essence pregnancies could take on aspects of any man who might become involved with the birth father.”

Both Draco and Harry frowned.

“So, my children are becoming Harry’s as well?” Draco asked.

“Well, yes, sort of,” Hermione said with a nod. “Their DNA make-up is actually shifting so that they’re becoming part Harry. They won’t change too much. Color of hair and eyes...possibly skin tone. Though, you’re both fairly pale, so I don’t see that changing much.

“Aria’s change, on the other hand, makes the most sense...because she’s so young. It’s more typical for this to happen with those whose bodies are in a state of flux. Aria is constantly growing and changing, so her shift is easier.”

“All right,” Draco said, and the thought he understood. “And what about Orion and Corvus?”

Hermione frowned. “Well, from what I’ve read, children over the age of three don’t usually change from close contact with their birth father’s...lover, so this is extremely odd. But I’ve not read enough to know how this could happen or what it might mean. Sorry.”

Harry shrugged, but Draco nodded. “So, there’s no chance that Caelum’s...DNA? will shift?”

Hermione shook her head. “It’s not likely. Only about a one percent chance of it happening. And Scorpius is completely safe, since he actually has a birth mother and his initial existence didn’t involve magic in any way.”

Draco nodded. “All right. And what if Caelum were to be exposed to the man whose essence created him?” he asked nervously, his thoughts going to Gregory Goyle.

“Well, like I said, after age three, there should be no shifting. Caelum’s DNA should be all yours at this point. But we’ll have to do some more research, because obviously Harry’s been able to affect the twins.”

Draco took a deep breath. “I see,” he said, letting his head fall back onto the chair. He was getting a headache.

“Are you okay, Draco?” Harry asked, recognizing the pain in the other man’s face. This was, of course, quite overwhelming to Harry—suddenly he was really and truly genetically a father, without the benefit of having been involved in any way—but it must be so much worse for Draco.

“Just adjusting. I’ll be fine. You?”

Disregarding his friends—who were now being politely quiet—Harry moved himself into Draco’s chair and hugged his lover. “I’m fine too,” he said. “We’ll get through this, right?”

“If you say so, Potter.”

This made Harry sad. He hated it when Draco used his last name—and Draco seemed to sense Harry’s sorrow, because he instantly curled himself into the dark-haired man and closed his eyes. “Yes, Harry...we’ll be fine. I just need to sleep on all this information before I can work through it. And I could use some sexual relief as well.”

At this Harry’s face turned scarlet. “Ahh, Draco, my friends are still here.”

“Then they should probably leave, because I’m hard and desperately need to release my pent up...stress.”

“All righty then!” Ron burst, on his feet in a blink. “As I have no interest in hearing about Malfoy’s pent up anything...it’s time for us to go!”

Hermione giggled, but got to her feet. “I’ll leave you two with one of these books and take the other two with me,” she informed the men who clearly weren’t listening, then followed her husband to the Floo. “Goodbye Harry...Malfoy,” said the bushy-haired woman as she disappeared.

~ o ~

Deciding they didn’t really have time for a proper fuck—because three of the children were in their bed and could come down at any time—Harry pushed the ottoman out of the way, then hooked his hands under Draco’s knees and pulled so that the blond lay comfortably reclined on his overstuffed chair. Then kneeling, Harry went to work on the buttons of the blond’s trousers, quickly lowering the offending garments and burying Draco’s cock in his mouth.

“Ohhh...YES!” the blond hollered.

“Shhh,” Harry scolded, after pulling off Draco’s cock. “I know you don’t mind being an exhibitionist, but I’d prefer it if our children didn’t have to bear witness to this.”

Draco grinned. “I like the sound of that.”

Harry frowned. “W-what?” he asked, confused.

“Our children,” Draco clarified. “You called them ours.”

“Because they truly are ours now,” Harry said—though he’d already considered them his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments? Questions? Tell me what you think! =) Oh...and, if anyone knows how to post pictures on AO3, that information would be greatly appreciated. Thanks...and thanks for reading!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I live in the fire devastated town of Thousand Oaks. It's a mess here. First a shooting...and then fires. Sooo many being evacuated...not me yet, but I've been without cable, Internet, and a land line for two days. They're back now, so I'm posting a new chapter before it can go out again. And I'm not getting much sleep even though I'm so tired that I can hardly sleep. *sigh*
> 
> So. Story...
> 
> * time skip (another month)  
> * 8 months PG (Draco)  
> * new information (from Hermione)  
> * smut  
> * profanity

Never a Moment’s Peace  
Another thirty-ish days...  
15 November 2007

~ o ~

Watching Draco move around was almost painful to Harry now. Harry tried to do as much as he could for the man—he’d even taken a leave of absence from work—but the blond seemed content to do most things himself. And, without any hint of complaint either. This was not at all how Harry’d imagined an eight months pregnant Draco Malfoy...the spoiled little rich boy that he was. In fact, Harry sort of thought the blond would have been a demanding pain in the arse by now, requiring daily back and foot rubs and ordering Harry about, like out for take away or pickles and ice cream...or...other such things. But no, Draco was more than pleasant to be around, often asking if he could do things for Harry. He even cooked for him and the children each evening and even kept the house tidy during the day. Harry was more than impressed and, frankly, wondered how Draco did it.

And Draco was huge at this point. In the last thirty days—which was the equivalent of two months with Draco’s magical essence pregnancy—the man had nearly doubled in size. This had Harry quite worried, because...how in Merlin’s name could one’s belly grow that much, in such a short time, and not explode?

But Draco’s belly didn’t explode. In fact, it just kept getting bigger and bigger and bigger...until Harry finally put his foot down and ordered the blond on bed rest. Well, he ordered the other man to rest...though it wasn’t likely to last very long. Or at all; it seemed that Draco had no intention of listening.

“This is not okay, Draco!” he’d said, voice slightly raised, after catching the pregnant man waddling into the kitchen with Scorpius on one hip and Aria tucked in the crook of his other arm. He’d instantly plucked the seven month old from her father’s arms and put her in her highchair—she was sitting up on her own now like a big girl—then did the same with Scorpius. He gave them each a cracker, then turned on his boyfriend.

“You shouldn’t be carrying them around like that,” Harry scolded. “And you should be resting!”

Draco rolled his eyes. “I’m not an imbecile, Potter, I used a lightening spell. It was like carrying feathers.”

“Well...that’s good, but...ahh...you shouldn’t even be up,” Harry argued. “I want you to march your arse back upstairs and get back into bed.”

“I’ve been in bed napping for the last few hours. I’m tired of bed rest.”

“But the Healer said—”

“That I shouldn’t overtax myself,” the blond interrupted. “I hardly think that performing one measly spell and walking down the stairs—”

“Three flights of stairs,” added Harry.

“Fine. But walking down three flights of stairs isn’t going to hurt me or the baby. I’m fine, Harry. Really. My Healer did say I’m doing well, remember?”

Harry frowned. “That was two weeks ago...when you were only seven months.”

Reaching out, Draco gently ran his fingers over the front of Harry shirt, up and toward the dark-haired man’s tense shoulders. “And you remember that I’ve done this before, right?”

Harry bit his lip, but nodded and slid his arms around the blond’s burgeoning body and held him. “I would feel better if you didn’t do so much. And I would be more than happy to get you anything you need. All you have to do is tell me what you need or want.”

Smiling, Draco let his head droop onto Harry’s shoulder. “But what I need is to do something. Ever since you went on leave from work, you’ve not let me do a damned thing. I’m bored out of my skull.”

“Better bored than overworked,” the dark-haired man said. “I don’t want you to strain yourself.”

“Well, I’d like to strain myself,” Draco countered. “I’d like to be dripping with perspiration while we’re straining to bring each other to completion.

At this Harry burst out laughing. “I can’t believe you’re talking about...sex,” he said, whispering the last word as he cast a glance at their two youngest children, “when you’re as big as a house.”

Draco’s brow raised questioningly, then backed out of Harry’s arms. “I hardly think I’m that big, Potter.”

“Draco. I think it’s safe to say that you look like you’re carrying a massively large watermelon inside there. Maybe even more than one of them, by the looks of you. How can you be thinking about...you know...at a time like this?”

“Sex?” the blond asked loudly as he leaned against the counter for support. “You know, Harry, it’s okay if you say the word.”

Harry’s eyes went to the children again. They were munching on their crackers and not paying the least bit of attention to the two men, but it didn’t stop Harry from blushing. Nodding, his face turning even more red, he said, “Yes...that.”

“That?” Draco queried, though he knew exactly what Harry meant. “What are we...thirteen?”

“Yes...that...sex,” Harry finally said. “How can you be thinking of sex when you’re so bloody big.”

“First, I hardly think my size is the point here, and secondly—”

“And what is the point?” Harry asked.

“I was getting to that,” the blond huffed. “The point is that I haven’t come in eight fucking days, Potter. I’m dying here. You’re always worried that you’re going to hurt me and I can’t fucking do it myself...have a wank, I mean...because, apparently, I’m as big as a house and I can’t reach, but my bollocks are full to capacity and...I want them emptied! Now!”

“Well, we can’t do it now,” Harry said, his eyes going to the children again. “There are others to be considered. Plus, your mother and Andromeda will be back with Caelum and the twins soon too. I know you want some release, Draco, but—”

“Need, Potter. Not want.”

“Right. Need some release,” Harry corrected himself. “So do I, but...it’ll just have to wait until we get them all settled down tonight. I’m sorry, but that’s the way it is.”

Draco nodded. “I know and...I’m sorry too. I don’t mean to be testy.”

Harry snorted. “Malfoy, you’re always testy, but...you know I love...it.”

Draco raised a brow. “It?”

“You,” Harry corrected. “You know I love you...just the way you are.”

Smiling, the blond pushed awkwardly off the counter and went to Harry, then leaned in and took the man’s lips. “I love you too, Harry,” he whispered when they were both nearly breathless.

~ o ~

Less than thirty minutes later, Draco and Harry were joined by Narcissa and Andromeda—and four rambunctious boys.

“See,” Harry hissed. “We wouldn’t have had time.”

Draco just glared at the man, then looked up from the chair he was sitting in and smiled at the older women. “Hello, Aunt Andromeda. Mother. I’d get up, but Harry’s being a control freak and insisting that I remain seated.”

Harry rolled his eyes, but Draco’s aunt laughed.

“Trouble in paradise, boys?” the dark-haired woman asked.

“Nope. Just making sure Draco doesn’t overdo it,” Harry said, his eyes twinkling.

“And for that, I’m quite grateful, Harry dear,” Narcissa said on her way over to her one and only son’s lover. After giving each of Harry’s cheeks an air kiss, the blonde woman went to her own son. “Good afternoon, darling,” she said. “And don’t worry about it. I may be older, but I’m perfectly capable of bringing my greetings to you.” Bending down, she placed her lips on her son’s cheek, then patted it gently. “I hope you two had a nice quiet morning.”

“Yes, Mother, it was...nice and quiet,” Draco said, sending another glare over to Harry.

Over Andromeda’s shoulder—because the woman was hugging him—Harry stuck his tongue out at Draco, then said. “Yes, Narcissa, it was very peaceful. Thank you.”

“Oh, you’re very welcome, dear.”

“Where’re the boys?” Harry then asked.

“Oh, Caelum wanted to show Teddy something in this room and the twins went with them,” Andromeda informed them. “Didn’t you hear them thundering up the stairs like a herd of Hippogriffs?”

Harry grinned. “Is that what I heard? And I thought maybe there was a troll in the dungeon.” he joked.

Both Andromeda and Narcissa tittered merrily. “Boys will be boys,” the darker haired woman said to her sister—making Harry wonder whether she was referring to him and Draco or their sometimes boisterous sons.

“So, Draco darling,” Narcissa said, her blue eyes taking on somewhat of a pleading look. “I’d like to have a little get together for Scorpius. For his birthday. Just a small one, I promise.”

Draco groaned. “Mother, we’ve already been over this. He’s only two...two days ago...and he won’t remember not having a party. And I’m much too tired to even think about a gathering.”

“But I’ll handle everything, Draco. You won’t have to do a thing,” she pushed. “I boy should have a birthday party.”

Draco shook his head. “You can throw one when he turns five...when he’s old enough to actual enjoy it.”

Narcissa frowned. “But...that’s three years from now, darling.”

“In fact,” Draco said, ignoring the grating whine in his mother’s voice, “you can throw one for Orion and Corvus on their next birthday.”

Narcissa pouted—which almost caused Harry to burst out laughing. He only managed to hold back because Andromeda reached over and pinched his arm just in time.

“But Draco, that’s six and a half months from now,” the blonde woman complained.

Draco nodded. “Yes, and that’s much sooner than three years, isn’t it? Plus, I won’t be massively pregnant and about to explode!”

At this Narcissa Malfoy huffed. “Fine. Deny your mother her fun.”

Rolling his eyes, Draco pushed forward and kissed his mother’s cheek. “It’s really and truly not necessary for a two-year-old to have a birthday bash. Scorpius will survive without one.”

“But...you had one every year, darling,” she reminded him.

“Mother.”

“All right, Dragon. You win.”

Dragon? Harry mouthed questioningly, stifling his laughter.

Shut it! Draco mouthed back. “Thank you, Mother.”

~ o ~

After settling their brood into their own beds—with bedtime stories and goodnight kisses—Harry and Draco went into their room and closed the door, shutting it tight and setting up a strong silencing charm. Harry, deciding he wanted to shower, promised to be quick about it and went into the loo. And Draco, nodding, sat himself down on a chair and picked up a book.

After finishing in the bathroom and returning to the bedroom—naked—Harry went to Draco and stripped him down to his birthday suit, then gently eased back onto their bed and prepared to ravish him.

Lying on the bed, his belly arching up sharply, Draco shivered and sighed as Harry ran his hands all over every inch of his body. It didn’t take long to reach his destination, causing the blond to groan loudly and shudder.

“Ohhh, that feels sooo good, Harry. I’ve really been needing this.”

“What would you like me to do?” the dark-haired man asked, his eyes ablaze with desire as he stroked Draco’s rigid member. They were both in need, but Harry felt Draco’s need was much stronger.

Rocking his hips—with some difficultly, because his middle was so full and heavy—Draco moaned and pushed his cock back and forth in Harry’s hand several times, then spread his legs so that the dark-haired man could slip his other hand down and over his balls.

“Touch me everywhere, Harry,” he rasped. “I need you to just keep touching me.”

Harry continued to stroke him, twisting one hand up over Draco’s weeping cock, then back down over his shaft, while fluttering his fingers over the man’s tight sac and back to his puckered hole. After a few passes, Harry lowered his head to run his tongue over the blond’s balls, lightly licking and kissing them, then pushed his legs further apart so he could taste more of him.

“T-that’s brilliant, Harry,” Draco whimpered, quivering under Harry’s onslaught, “b-but I’d really like to f-feel you inside me.”

“Not yet,” said Harry, causing Draco to growl a bit—quite literally.

But he wasn’t upset for long, because, mid-growl, he felt the dark-haired man’s tongue breach his body—followed quickly by a thick questing finger.

“How’s this, Draco?” Harry asked as he pushed his finger in and pulled it out several times. Then, hooking the end of his finger, he searched—obviously for Draco’s prostate.

“Ahh, there it is,” he said, a grin on his lips as the blond jerked violently. Several passes over the gland had Draco writhing—but carping about it too.

“That’s enough!” Draco cried. “In me. Now!”

Harry continued to grin. “I am in you.”

“No!” Draco yelled, now pushing away, struggling to get away from Harry’s persistent deep massaging. “Stop! Y-you know what I m-mean. I w-want your cock!”

But Harry was definitely stronger at this point and kept attacking the blond’s prostate—until Draco took a deep breath and focused a menacing glare on him.

“Stop now or I swear to Salazar that you’ll be sorry,” the blond threatened through gritted teeth.

Seeing the man’s seriousness, Harry instantly halted. “Er...sorry?”

“That apology doesn’t sound at all sincere, Potter,” the blond grumbled as he worked to even out his breathing. “It would help if it didn’t sound like a question.”

“Um. I’m really and truly sorry, Draco,” Harry tried again—this time with a little more success. Only a little, because the blond snorted before responding.

“No, don’t be sorry,” Draco capitulated. “It felt brilliant, but...I really want you to fuck me.”

Harry swallowed. “Are you sure it’s safe?”

Draco rolled his eyes. “Yes, it’s safe, damn it! Now get off me so I can get up on my hands and knees.” It was the only position they could actually have sex.

Moving slowly, Harry slid out from between Draco’s legs, then focused on the man’s ready and willing hole when it was presented in front of him—until the Floo flared and Hermione’s face appeared.

“Can I come...through, Harry?” she asked—then gulped. “Oops.”

“Fucking, GRANGER!” Draco bellowed as he rolled, collapsing on this back, but not bothering to cover his nakedness. “Sure, come through! What’s one more day without coming?!”

“Um. I’m sorry, guys,” she said after stepping into Draco and Harry’s bedroom—her face flaming red and turned away. “I...I just discovered something and...thought you’d like to know.”

“It’s nearly fucking midnight, Granger! Don’t you think it could have waited until morning?”

Squaring her shoulders, Hermione nodded. “In retrospect, yes, but...at the time, I felt this was quite important. I’m so sorry, Harry,” she said, her nervous eyes going to her friend.

Harry, having tossed the sheet over a very angry Draco, grabbed a throw to wrap around himself and looked at the mortified woman. “It’s okay, Hermione,” he said—to which he received a murderous glare from Draco. “What’s up?”

“I’ll tell you what’s up! Or was up!” Draco griped snidely.

“I’m really sorry, Draco,” Hermione said again.

“No, it’s okay, Hermione,” Harry answered for his boyfriend. “We should have thought to shut the Floo.”

After sending Harry another withering glare, the blond sighed and looked at the bushy-haired woman. “Well, get on with it!” he snapped.

“Um. Well, you know I’ve been researching what’s going on here and...I think I’ve come across something rather interesting. You remember how I said that children over the age of three shouldn’t be influenced by—”

“Close contact with their birth father's lover,” Draco finished for her. “Yes, I remember that. What’s this about?!”

“Well...ahhh....”

“Just spit it out, Granger!”

“WEASLEY!” both Hermione and Harry yelled together.

Draco rolled his eyes. “You cannot expect me to give a Hippogriff’s arse about her last name at a time like this, Potter. My dick is achingly hard,” he said, grabbing the protruding lump in the sheet, “and I was expecting to have yours firmly up my arse by now. This sort of thing is not good for a man. So now...Weasley, please just fucking tell us what the bloody fuck you came here to tell us and then kindly get the fuck out so Harry can fuck me fast and hard!”

Hermione blinked at this, then spoke. “Fine. Orion and Corvus aren’t just shifting to look like Harry. They are Harry’s,” she blurted.

The two men just stared at her, so she continued.

“It just so happens that it’s impossible for a shift to occur after the age of three...unless the man whose essence was used is around. So—”

“Wait. What?” Harry cut in.

“What about Caelum?” Draco asked, ignoring Harry. As much as he liked his long-time friend, he did not want his son to start looking like him.

Hermione shook her head. “No, he’s safe,” she said. She knew why Draco was so worried, but there was no reason. “There’s a very short window for this. Three to five years. The twins are the only ones who could shift, but only if their other father was around. And that’s Harry.”

Harry scratched his messy hair. “I’m their father?”

Hermione nodded.

“But...how did this happen?” he asked.

“Obviously you were around me, Potter,” Draco drawled. He had that you’re a complete moron look on his face, but he too was confused. “After Caelum I moved to a small Muggle village, because I thought it would be safer, but...clearly it wasn’t.”

Harry frowned. “Muggle village?”

“Yes, where were you in January of 2003, Potter?”

Harry’s forehead was still knotted together. “Um. Ohh, I was on an undercover Auror case in Bibury. You lived there?”

Draco nodded. “Obviously.”

“Humph!”

“Until I had the twins, then I moved again. Lived in another rural area until Aria happened, then I moved my brood here. I figured Muggle London couldn’t possibly be any worse than the country and at least I’d have some modern conveniences. Like takeaway. Worked out wonderfully, didn’t it? Up the duff again!”

Harry watched Draco rant for a bit, but, when it looked like the blond was going to start crying, he reached out and pulled the man into his arms.

“I’m sorry it’s been so hard, Draco, but...you don’t have to do this alone anymore...I’m not going anywhere.”

“Yeah, until I’m knocked up again and number SEVEN is on the way,” the blond yelled. “Yeah, I’m sure you’ll stick around for that!”

“I’m not leaving you or the children. And we will find a way to put an end to this...I promise.”

“Actually,” Hermione interrupted, “there’s no need to worry about this happening again. The children’s ability to shift and take on some of Harry’s traits...Aria, more specifically, since she’s not of Harry’s essence to begin with...shows that you two have bonded to one another. No other man’s essence will be able to breach that bond. And further, even Harry’s essence won’t be able to get through...unless you both want it to.”

Both Draco and Harry sighed with relief.

“Well, that’s it then. No more children for me!” Draco said happily.

“Unless we want them,” Harry corrected.

“No. Uh-uh. I’m not having any more babies! I’ve been pregnant three times and have five children and one on the way. That’s more than enough.”

Harry frowned. “But...I always wanted a large family.”

“We have a large family, Harry.”

“He’s right, Harry...six children is quite a lot,” Hermione put in.

“I know, but...well, I haven’t been around for a lot of it and—”

“Potter, if you want more babies after this one,” Draco said, giving his massive belly a loving rub, “then you can have them yourself. Because I am not having any more.”

Harry nodded. “All right. Fair enough.”

Draco grinned at Harry, then looked back at the man’s friend and narrowed his eyes. “Now, your information was wonderful, but could you please leave so we can get back to our bedroom activities? I think I celebratory fuck is in order!”

Rolling her eyes, Hermione nodded. “Goodnight, Harry,” she said after giving her friend a kiss on the cheek. Then, just before disappearing through the Floo, she winked and said, “Make sure you fuck him good.”

“Did she just...use profanity?”

Draco nodded. “Didn’t know she had it in her.”

Snickering, Harry said, “And I’m not at all concerned about anything that’s in Hermione Weasley. Get over here and assume the position, Malfoy!”

Laughing, Draco dragged himself up, then kneeled and presented. “Have at it, Potter.”

“Should I block the Floo this time?” asked Harry.

“No fucking way. If she’s dumb enough to come through again, when she knows what we’re doing, then she deserves to see us fucking. Now, get your arse over here and pay attention to mine.”

And Harry did.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * shorter time skip (20 days)  
> * pain  
> * explanations (same thing said 2x...IDK why)  
> * rude receptionist  
> * labor, childbirth  
> * close call  
> * friends and family  
> * Poppy cuddles...and reassurance

A Busy Day  
About two weeks later...  
Sunday, 2 December 2007

~ o ~

Yawning, Harry rolled from his back to his left side, slithering his right arm over where Draco’s narrow waist used to be and nuzzling the back of the blond man’s neck.

“You sleep okay?” he asked sleepily.

Draco just groaned.

Frowning, Harry sat up and rubbed Draco’s hip. “Draco?”

“I’m fine. Just uncomfortable.”

“Can I get you anything?”

Draco gave his head a little shake, then said, “I’m hot.”

“It’s December.”

“Hot.”

Shrugging, Harry took up their heavy blanket and gently peeled it back, then adjusted the pillow that the blond had between his legs and supporting his large belly. Then he watched as Draco’s belly shifted. For the last two weeks—which brought Draco right up to the end of his pregnancy—the baby had gone from fairly strong fetal activity to only just barely squirming. There was just no more room in the man’s body to house the child and Draco was extremely uncomfortable.

“I need to have a piss,” he complained.

Popping up, Harry was on his feet and circling their bed, then helping the other man to his feet.

“I hate this,” Draco said as he held Harry’s hand.

Harry had slipped his other hand to the small of Draco’s back and was helping him along. “I know.”

In the bathroom, Harry waited for his pregnant boyfriend to use the toilet—Draco had to sit now, because he couldn’t see around his belly to aim properly—then handed him a towel after he’d washed his hands.

“I don’t really hate this,” the blond admitted, their eyes meeting in the mirror.

Harry grinned, his green eyes shining. “I know.”

Draco laughed—then groaned, his face screwing up.

“What’s happening? You all right?” the dark-haired man asked, immediately moving in and putting his hands on his pregnant boyfriend. “Why’s your stomach so hard?”

For nearly a minute, Draco ignored Harry’s questions and worried looks as he breathed through the pain, then his eyes went to the other man.

“Might be time.”

Harry’s eyes widened. “Might be?”

Draco nodded. “Think so. It wasn’t so...fast before.”

“But you just woke up,” Harry said.

Draco snorted. “I’ve been up all night, Potter.”

Frowning, Harry said, “Why didn’t you tell me? I could have—”

“Helped?” Draco shook his head. “You would have just...ohhh...”

Pausing, the blond leaned heavily into Harry, allowing the other man to hold him up while the contraction twisted his middle.

“I’m fine,” he said quickly—as soon as the contraction had ended—then finished his previous thought as Harry helped him to sit back down on the bed. “You would have just worried and there’s not really much you can do.”

“I still would have liked to have known,” Harry grumbled. “I’ve missed so much already.”

Draco snorted. “This is worth missing.”

“I don’t know why you have to go through all this,” Harry complained. “Your Healer said you don’t actually have to push the baby out...thank Merlin! So, why can’t we just go to St Mungo’s and have them do this with magic...so you’re not in pain?”

Draco nodded. “It’s time. We can go now,” he said, pointing at the bag he had packed to bring with them. “And I do have to go through this...if I want to know from the beginning if my children are magical.”

Harry frowned. “What?”

Rolling his eyes, Draco gave his head a shake. “Don’t you listen to Granger...er...Weasley?” he corrected himself. “She’s been going on and on about this sort of pregnancy for months!”

“Um. Apparently not,” Harry said, frowning.

Draco laughed, then gritted his teeth through another contraction.

Feeling helpless, Harry bit his lip and watched, rubbing Draco’s lower back through the intense pain. “I don’t understand,” he said when it was over.

“If the baby can magic him or herself out of me, then we’ll know it’s magical...not a Squib. If it can’t...or doesn’t...then we’d have to wait until he or she shows signs.”

“I don’t care if the baby’s a Squib, Draco!” Harry burst. “It’s crazy to put yourself through this when you don’t have to.”

Draco shook his head. “I don’t mind. I like knowing.”

Harry sighed. “Okay. Fine. So, what now?”

“Go tell Aunt Andromeda and she can notify Mother and Father.”

Harry nodded. “Wait. You told her, but not me.”

Draco rolled his eyes—then groaned. “Go!”

Jumping up, Harry ran from the room. He didn’t have far to go though, because Andromeda was on the stairs; she’d been staying with them just in case.

“Time?” she asked.

Harry nodded.

The older woman smiled. “Relax, Harry,” she said. “This sort of thing happens every day. You’ll both do fine.”

Nodding again, Harry turned and ran back to Draco—who looked good, despite what he was going through.

“All right. Ready?”

“I’m ready to pop, Potter! Get the fuck over here and help me up.”

Helping the blond to his feet, Harry lugged the blond to the Floo and they were gone.

~ o ~

“Merlin, I hate traveling by Floo,” Draco bitched as they stumbled into St Mungo’s reception area. It was good that the hospital had added themselves to the Floo Network—about five years prior—but traveling that way was a messy business.

Nodding, Harry led the blond over to the Welcome Witch—who glanced up at them and frowned at Draco.

“Back again, Mr. Malfoy?” she asked snidely, then pursed her lips. “Surprise, surprise.”

Opening his mouth to reply, Draco was silenced as another contraction hit him—causing him to nearly drop to his knees. Thankfully he did not, because Harry was there to grab him and hold him firmly. And then the dark-haired man glared at the woman.

“I know you think you’re a person of great consequence, with an extremely important position here, but...would you kindly get my laboring boyfriend the help he deserves...just like anyone else does,” he said sternly—it was not a question. “And then I want you to notify the proper floor, so they’re ready for us when we get there. And then, I expect you to wipe that nasty look of that bigoted pinched face of yours, witch, you are no better than this wonderful man here!”

The woman gaped at him for a moment, then gave a clipped nod. “Certainly, Mr. Potter. Of course, Sir. I’m so sorry.”

“As you should be!” Harry snapped, his eyes going to Draco, who was puffing up proudly.

Within seconds they were on their way upstairs, Draco sitting in a Muggle-type wheelchair that hovered instead of rolled and smiling.

“I have never, in all the years I’ve known you, Potter, been so grateful for your fame,” he said. “Where the fuck were you the last three times I went through this?”

Harry laughed. “Yeah, usually I hate it, but it can come in handy...at times like this. And Draco, had I known about all this,” he said, gesturing between them, “nothing could have kept me away.”

Draco grinned, then groaned.

“Ahh, Mr. Malfoy, there you are,” a witch in lime green robes said when they’d exited the lift. She rushed toward them and frowned down at the blond. “You’re further along in this than last time. I warned you to come right away this time...these things tend to speed up with each one,” she said exasperatedly.

“I know, but...Harry was sleeping,” Draco said.

“Wait. We were supposed to come sooner and you let me sleep?”

Grimacing through another hard contraction, Draco nodded. “You needed the sleep, Potter.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Malfoy! I can sleep after this!”

As the pain subsided, Draco snorted. “Right. Sleep in a house with a newborn. What are you...new?”

Harry frowned. “Well, apparently I am, but...let’s not argue.”

“Brilliant idea,” the green robe-wearing witch agreed. “Right this way, gentlemen.”

Turning into a decent-sized room, Draco stood up, stripped down and changed into the gown he was given, then waddled over to the comfortable-looking bed and settled into it—after which the witch pulled out her wand and started performing a series of tests.

“Oh Merlin, Mr. Malfoy, you sure let this progress, didn’t you? You’re just about at the end.”

“Is that bad?” Harry asked, clearly ready to panic.

The woman shook her head and placed a hand on Harry’s arm. “Oh no, Mr. Potter, but if this one,” she said, gesturing at Draco, “weren’t so bloody stubborn, he could avoid all this Muggle nonsense.”

Harry frowned—and so the woman continued.

“Only Muggles have to suffer through labor. Witches and wizards do not. There is a handy spell to remove the baby and poof! the baby is here!” she said with a boisterous wave of her arms. “But nooo, Mr. Malfoy wants to suffer.”

“Draco?”

The blond rolled his eyes. “It’s not like I want to suffer, Harry,” he said, giving the witch a glare, “I would just like to know if he or she is magical and not have to wait for him or her to show signs. Is that too much to want?”

Harry was still frowning, totally confused—and so the witch tried to explain.

“If the baby can magick itself out of Draco’s womb, then he or she will have magical abilities.”

Nodding, Harry said, “Oh, okay.”

“Potter, I just...explained this...to you,” Draco very nearly whined as another contraction began. When it ended, he continued. “Were you even listening to me earlier?”

Harry just kept frowning. “Um. Guess not.”

Draco huffed. “Focus, Potter!”

Harry nodded. “So then...if it can’t magick itself out? What then?”

“Well, it’s more like doesn’t. If the child doesn’t magick itself out, then he may or may not have magical abilities,” the woman explained. “Mr. Malfoy here just wants to know upfront.”

“I see,” Harry said—then he had to wait as Draco’s belly contracted painfully, leaving them all speechless for the duration.

“So. The children. You did this each time?” Harry asked, impressed by the other man’s strength. He would have thought Draco Malfoy would have caved at the first sign of discomfort.

Draco nodded, then beamed. “They’re all magical, Harry,” he said. “I was worried about Caelum...you know Greg...but all is good.”

Harry nodded and grimaced. “Right.” Then he grinned.

“Aria was the quickest. She apparently wanted out!” the blond said.

“Well, who wouldn’t,” said Harry, laughing. Then he pretended to shudder. “Girls!”

Draco might have giggled if he’d been in his right mind—or body—at this point, but.... Contraction! “Oh, fuck, this hurts!” he growled, grabbing onto the dark-haired man’s hand and squeezing hard.

“I’m so sorry, Draco,” Harry said, wincing at the blond’s grip. “I promise not to do this to you again.”

As the twisting ache in his middle receded, Draco took a deep breath and tried to relax, smiling up at Harry. “Damn straight you won’t!”

Laughing, Harry wiped the sweat from Draco’s brow and looked deeply into the man’s gray eyes. “And the twins?” he queried, obviously curious about the two who’d been created by his own essence.

“Those little shits were the hardest of them all, now that I think about it,” Draco bitched. “It’s completely believable that they’re your offspring, Potter!”

Harry laughed.

“Um. Mr. Malfoy,” the witch interrupted. “Your belly is glowing now, so I’m going to go get the Healer. Will you be all right for a moment?”

Draco nodded. “I’m fine.”

Turning, the woman left.

But, as soon as she was out of the room, Draco’s stomach started to feel as if it were on fire, then it began to shimmer—and then, as another massive contraction ripped through him, the image of a child began to appear.

“It’s...coming, Harry,” the blond ground out through the clenching pain. “It’s Apparating! It has magic.”

Though Draco was clearly elated, this was terrifying to Harry. Not knowing what to do, Harry rushed forward and held out his hands, not sure if he was supposed to catch the child or what. And then it was there in his arms and he was staring at the tiny naked thing.

“It’s a boy, Draco!” Harry gasped as he clutched the slimy, black-haired infant to his chest. “He’s...beautiful.”

His head thrown back in exhaustion, Draco sighed. “Well, of course he is.”

Harry laughed. “Oh thank you, Draco,” he said, tears coursing down his cheeks. “Thank you for this.”

Opening his eyes, the blond watched the man he loved, as he lovingly held their new baby, and decided that everything he’d lived through up until that moment had been worth it, just to see this look on Harry Potter’s face. Life was good and he couldn’t be happier.

But then he started to feel...odd.

“Harry? I don’t...feel...right,” he said, grimacing.

It took an extreme effort to look away from his new son, but when he did he noticed how pale Draco looked. Paler than normal. And clammy.

“Draco? Are you okay?”

But Draco wasn’t answering. Panicking, Harry ran to the door, threw it open, and yelled for help. Immediately the room was flooded with hospital personnel. Someone took his son and whisked the newborn away. Someone else pushed Harry to the far side of the room and up against the wall to get him out of the way. And several others crowded around Draco’s bed so that Harry couldn’t even see what was happening. Standing at the wall, sweating with worry, Harry began to shake violently, with terror.

But then he heard the sound of a crying newborn and tried to focus.

“Mr. Potter,” a Healer said, “could you please hold your daughter while we work on Mr. Malfoy?”

Blinking, Harry nodded as he took the screaming pink bundle and brought her to his chest without thinking, then stood there waiting, confused.

But not for long.

After what seemed like hours, though it has been just minutes, he was asked to leave the room—led away by the same witch who pushed him away and into the wall earlier—and now he was sitting in a small room staring at his tiny new babies and wondering if their other father was going to live through this mess.

~ o ~

Tap. Tap.

Turning, Harry saw Hermione and Ron standing at a window looking at him. Swallowing, he cast a glance down at his sleeping babies, then went to his friends.

“Harry?!” Hermione burst, throwing her arms around him and squeezing tightly.

“Twins,” he said, his face buried in her bushy curls. Then his eyes filled with tears and he shook his head. “But Draco. I don’t know what’s going on. They haven’t told me anything.”

Detaching herself from Harry, Hermione nodded. “I’ll go find out what’s happening. Ron’ll stay here with you.”

Numbly, Harry nodded, his eyes going to his first ever friend, then to the tiny bundles resting in the tiny hospital cots. “Twins,” he repeated.

Ron grinned. “Yeah, mate. Now you have two sets of ‘em.”

Harry nodded. “Yeah...I do.”

“I can’t imagine how mum got through Fred and George. Let’s hope yours are nothing like them.”

This made Harry smile. “How’d you know we were here?”

“Hermione Floo’d over to check on you guys and only found Andromeda with six kids.”

Harry cringed. “Maybe you guys could go check on her later?”

Ron nodded. “She was doing great though...had Teddy and Caelum as her little soldiers to keep the others in line.”

Smiling, Harry nodded.

“So,” Ron said. “Red.”

Harry frowned. “What?”

“The girl. She has red hair,” Ron pointed out, then laughed. “I bet Malfoy loves that.”

This caused Harry’s face to scrunch up and tears to immediately start pouring out. “Draco hasn’t even seen her. What if he doesn’t wake up? He’ll never see her.”

Awkwardly, Ron put his arms around his friend and patted his back. “I’m sorry, Harry, I wasn’t thinking, but...I’m sure he’ll be fine, right? I mean, the Ferret’s luck is second only to yours.”

Sniffling, Harry nodded. “Right. Of course he will.”

“Do you guys have names picked out? Because, that was hard for us. Hermione wanted one thing and I wanted another, but...I figure that, since she has to carry them, she should get to choose.”

Harry smiled.

“She’s pregnant again...Hermione,” Ron went on. “Due in June.”

“That’s great, Ron,” said Harry, but his voice was flat.

Ron tried to smile, but it was hard when his best friend was so sad. “So, do you...have names for them?”

First Harry shrugged—and then he nodded. “Yeah, we agreed on Sirius James Malfoy-Potter for a boy and...Lyra Lily Malfoy-Potter if we had a girl. I guess we have both,” he said, letting out a sob.

~ o ~

Several hours later, still waiting for Draco to awaken—Harry’d been told that Draco would survive, but that he needed serious rest and recovery—Harry sat in the chair beside the unconscious man’s bed, his head resting on the mattress beside Draco’s legs. He was exhausted, but desperately wished Draco would wake up and speak to him. Even if it was just one word.

“Mr. Potter?” a female voice whispered, causing Harry to sit up groggily. “I know you need some rest too, but...would you like to help feed your children? It’s fine if you’d rather not...we do have milk witches on staff.”

Harry frowned, wondering if that was like a Muggle wet nurse. “Um. No. I’ll feed them.”

The witch smiled. “Very well, I’ll have them brought in. Lyra seems to be awake and ready. She was quite angry that she’s had to wait, but one of the nursery wizards is holding her, so she’s quieted down a bit. And Sirius has slept through all his sister’s cries. Less of a temper, it seems.”

Harry smiled. “Okay.”

“I’ll get them, but it’ll be a minute,” the witch said, then left.

Sighing, Harry rubbed a hand over his scruffy face, then through his disaster of hair. “What the fuck were we thinking, Draco?” he whispered, his head in his hands.

“Weren’t.”

Harry’s head snapped up. “Draco?”

“Hmm.”

“Oh Merlin, you’re alive,” he said, now leaning over the blond’s bed

Snorting, Draco said, “Of course. You can’t...get rid of me...that easily.”

“I wouldn’t want to,” Harry said, looking the man over from head to toe. “Can I touch you?”

Draco shrugged. “Think so.”

Leaning, Harry gingerly wrapped his arms around the prone man, then peppered gentle kisses over his face and head. “I was so frightened, Draco.”

“What sort of Gryffindor are you?”

“The sort that was terrified of losing you. Don’t you ever do that to me again!”

“It’s not as if I planned it, Potter,” the blond said. “Where’s our son? Is he as perfect as I remember him to be? I remember black hair.”

Harry grinned. “Yes, black hair, but....”

Draco frowned. “But what?”

“He um...has a sister.”

Draco blinked. “Yeah, all the boys do.”

Harry shook his head. “No, not Aria. You had twins.”

“Again?!”

“Yeah, ‘fraid so.”

“Un-fucking-believable! Your fault, Potter,” the blond accused. “Both sets are yours...your fault.”

Harry blushed. “Sorry.”

Draco shrugged. “I want to see them.”

Nodding, Harry motioned toward the door. “They’re bringing them in.”

~ o ~

The rest of the day Draco and Harry—and the babies—had a stream of visitors. Molly and Arthur were the first to arrive, but they were, by no means, the only.

“Oh, Harry dear, they’re lovely,” the red-haired woman said, “Sort of a little James and Lily.”

“Yes, they are. Thank you, Molly,” Harry said proudly.

“And Draco, how are you feeling, dear?” asked Molly, her eyes going to him. “Having babies can be rough business. And I hear you did it the hard way. Well, almost the hard way.”

Draco nodded. “I’m fine, Mrs. Weasley, thank you.”

“Please, call me Molly. We’re family now.”

Smiling, the blond nodded again. He was still a little uncomfortable around Harry’s adoptive family—given their histories—but was aware that they had nothing but good intentions toward him these days and wanted to make nice.

“Thank you, Molly,” he said, giving the woman what she wanted.

Arthur Weasley, who’d been standing there quietly, leaning over and examining the babies—who had just fallen asleep again—looked at Draco and pursed his lips, then said, “The boy might have your eyes, son.”

“Yes, Sir, I think he might. And his name is Sirius.”

Arthur nodded. “Of course. Named after a good man. Two good men,” he amended, thinking of Harry’s father. “Excellent choice, boys!”

“I think Lyra might have Harry’s eyes though,” said Draco. “It’s hard to tell this early, but...I think she will.”

“And his mother’s hair as well,” Molly said as she lightly stroked Lyra’s brow, causing her tiny forehead to pinch up, then relax again.

Draco smiled and bit his tongue to avoid saying something that would get him into trouble—and then they were distracted by the door opening.

“Oh, Draco. How are you, darling?” Narcissa Malfoy asked as she glided into the room, her husband on her heels. “I heard there was some trouble.”

Draco nodded as his mother kissed his cheek, but didn’t elaborate; if she didn’t know he’d almost died, then he wasn’t going to be the one to tell her. “Yes, but I’m fine. Hello Father.”

Lucius Malfoy gave his son a stiff nod, but didn’t say anything to him, then his eyes turned on the others in the room and narrowed. “Arthur,” he greeted coldly—and completely ignored Molly and Harry’s presence.

“Lucius,” Arthur responded, his tone equally frosty.

Her lips thinning, Narcissa’s shining blue eyes went to Harry. “I hope you will tell us everything that happened today, dear...I can tell my son isn’t going to be forthcoming.”

Smiling, Harry nodded. “Of course. Later.”

Satisfied by Harry’s response, Narcissa went over to the babies and rubbed her palms together cheerfully. “May I hold one of them?”

“Certainly,” Harry said, instantly moving to pick up a baby. “Sirius or Lyra?”

Narcissa shrugged. “Either is fine. Lucius can hold the other.”

Sitting in the chair Harry had vacated, Narcissa accepted the blue-bundled baby that Harry placed in her arms and grinned. “So small,” she said. “You forget how very small we all start out.”

“Indeed,” Molly said. “And twins are often smaller.”

Narcissa looked up and gave the red-haired woman a sympathetic look, then reached out and squeezed her hand. She didn’t actually say anything, but the two women seemed to understand each other—if only for the moment.

“Would you prefer to sit, Mr. Malfoy?” Harry asked, unsure how to talk to the man who’d never been any more than a thorn in his side, but was now sort of like his father-in-law.

For a moment Lucius Malfoy just glowered, then he moved into the chair beside his wife, squirming a bit to settle into it, then looked up at Harry.

“Ready?” Harry asked.

The blond man gave a clipped nod, then had his left arm filled with his son’s red-haired newborn, who was wrapped tightly in her pink blanket.

“Well, Draco dear, we’ll let you have some time with your parents,” Molly said as she leaned over the bed and gave Draco a quick kiss on the forehead. “I’m sure we’ll see plenty of you later on...after things settle down.”

“Of course, Molly,” Draco said. “Come over any time.”

Molly grinned at the invitation. “We’ll take you up on that offer.” Then turning to Harry, she said, “Take care of them, dear.”

Harry nodded.

“Draco. Harry,” Arthur Weasley said, holding out his hand first to the bedridden man and then to the other. “Congratulations to you both.”

Harry took Arthur’s hand after Draco and grinned. “Thanks!”

Then nodding a somewhat chilly goodbye to Draco’s parents, the Weasleys turned to leave, Molly practically galloping, her handbag swinging wildly in one hand while she held onto Arthur with the other. “Let’s go see, Georgie, Arthur,” she was saying as they walked out.

“Colorful,” Lucius said as soon as the door closed.

“Behave yourself, Lucius!” Narcissa scolded. “This isn’t the time.”

Shrugging with just one shoulder—because he didn’t want to disturb his sleeping granddaughter—Lucius looked at his wife. “What? They’re colorful people. Are they not?”

Narcissa’s lips thinned, but she didn’t respond.

“They are colorful,” Harry admitted.

“See? Even Potter agrees with me,” Lucius Malfoy said, though he didn’t even look at Harry.

Draco scoffed. “I hardly think Harry’s agreeing with you, Father. He’s merely being nice. You might try it sometime,” he said snidely. “But you can pretend if you wish.”

Tittering, Narcissa never took her eyes off her grandson, but Lucius glared harshly at his son before looking down at the baby in his arms. Reaching up with his right hand, he touched Lyra’s soft red hair.

“It’s sort of...strawberry blonde,” the older man said, as if that were more tasteful to him.

Glancing at Harry, Draco frowned—clearly worried about what his boyfriend would think. But Harry didn’t appear upset at all. In fact, he seemed to be enjoying the fact that both of Draco’s parents were lovingly holding a Potter child.

“Oh, Lucius, look,” Narcissa cried, giving her husband a nudge. “Sirius’ just opened his eyes and...they look just like yours and Draco’s.”

Turning, Lucius Malfoy looked from his pink bundle to his wife’s blue one and smiled—and Draco thought it was the most genuine smile he could ever remember seeing on his father’s face.

And then Draco understood. His parents might have once wanted more children, but never had them...for whatever reasons. He knew they’d always loved him—adored and cherished him—but they’d gotten wrapped up in the craziness that was their life and couldn’t really be there for him. And then the war ended and his pregnancy issues began and they’d been forced to stay away from him. The separation had caused a huge rift, but he hoped it was one they could mend now that they didn’t have to worry about him anymore.

Looking at Harry again, Draco smiled. Harry smiled back and moved to his side. After a second, Draco patted the bed next to him, silently asking the dark-haired man to lie next to him—and, after a moment’s hesitation, Harry sat down and made himself comfortable.

Draco could immediately feel his father’s eyes on them, but he didn’t bother looking up. And Harry, oblivious as always, just closed his eyes and sighed.

~ o ~

Later in the day, close to evening, Ron and Hermione showed up again, this time with Andromeda, Teddy, and Draco and Harry’s gaggle of children.

“Dad!” Caelum burst as he entered the room. “Aunt ‘Mione said we have twins again.”

“Yep,” Draco said, answering his son, then sending a questioning look at Hermione Weasley.

Looking at him guiltily, Hermione shrugged. “He asked if he could and...I didn’t know what to say. Was it a mistake?” she asked, biting her lip worriedly. It wasn’t like she and the blond were friends, but...she hadn’t wanted to tell the boy no.

After a moment, Draco shrugged. “Whatever,” he said as his older twins clamored up and onto his bed and cuddled close—they apparently still hated the hospital. “Doesn’t matter at this point, I guess.”

“Poppy, up!” two year old Scorpius demanded. He’d been holding Hermione’s hand, but as soon as he noticed Harry he let go and was tugging on Harry’s pant leg. “Want up, Poppy.”

Smiling, Harry scooped up the boy and kissed his chubby cheek. “Would you like to see your new brother and sister?”

Scorpius nodded emphatically. “Babies. Two,” he said, pointing at them and then back at himself. “Me two.”

Harry nodded. “Yeah, Scorp, you’re two and we have two babies,” he said, holding up two fingers.

But Scorpius frowned and shook his head. “No. Twee baby.” Then he pointed again. “Baby, baby,” he poked in the air, once at Sirius and a second time at Lyra, then looked at Aria, who was in Andromeda’s arms. “Baby too. Twee baby.”

Everyone looked a bit shocked, but recovered quickly.

“Smart kid you have there, Malfoy,” Ron said.

“Yeah, that’s my boy,” Draco said proudly.

Handing Aria to Teddy—who entertained her by running his hair through a gamut of colors—Andromeda moved in and placed a kiss on her nephew’s head. “Congratulations, dear,” she said. “Hermione filled me in. Thank Merlin you’re still with us.”

“Thank you, Aunt Andromeda,” Draco said. “I guess I don’t really remember what happened. Didn’t even know we had twins...Harry had to tell me when I woke up. I’m good now though.”

“Can I hold them, Dad?” Caelum asked.

Draco nodded, then looked at Harry for help. Though he was back to his pre-pregnancy size and shape—magic was pretty awesome!—he was thoroughly exhausted and didn’t want to move.

“If you sit here,” Harry told Caelum, “I’ll give you your brother.”

“Uh-uh. I want my sister first,” he said as he hopped onto the chair and held out his arms excitedly.

Laughing, Harry nodded. “All right.” Gently setting Scorpius on Draco’s bed, he picked up Lyra.

“She’s...tiny,” remarked Caelum after Harry’d laid her down in his arms. “Is Siri bigger?”

Picking up his newborn son, Harry sat down beside the seven-year-old and said, “No, not really. Twins are usually smaller at birth, because there’s less room inside to grow, but...they’re a good size. And they’ll grow quickly, just like Aria.”

“Her hair is red,” the boy said next.

“Yeah, it is. My mother had red hair,” Harry explained.

“Not a word, Weasley!” Draco warned from his bed, glaring at Harry’s redheaded friend.

Holding up his hands in mock surrender, Ron shook his head. “I said nothing, Malfoy!”

“Pretty sure you’re going to,” the blond said, still glaring.

Ron smirked. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Ferret.”

“Ooo, can we get a ferret, Dad?” Caelum asked. “That would be way cooler than a dog.”

Ron snickered and Draco glared at him. “No son, we cannot get a ferret,” the blond said.

“Hmm. Okay. Well...I think Lyri’s red hair is pretty,” said Caelum, putting in his two knuts. “Different, but pretty. What color are her eyes?”

“It’s hard to say with new babies, buddy,” Harry answered, “but...your dad thinks they’re going to be green.”

Caelum grinned.

“You’ll have to tell us what color you think they are when she wakes up.”

Nodding, the seven-year-old grinned; he clearly liked that Harry wanted to know what he thought. “Can I hold him now?” he asked, nodding at Sirius.

Harry nodded. “Sure.”

After Andromeda had taken Lyra from Caelum, Harry placed Sirius in the boy’s arms.

“He feels heavier.”

Harry shrugged. “Only by a bit.”

“His hair is black like yours...much darker than Orion and Cory,” Caelum observed, his eyes going from his new brother to the older twins, obviously realizing that their hair was dark brown and not black.

Harry nodded. “And his eyes are definitely gray...like your dad’s and yours and Scorpius’.”

Caelum grinned—then gasped when Sirius opened is eyes, because they were very gray. “Will they change?”

Harry shrugged. “I suppose they could, but...I think they’ll stay gray.”

“Hmm. Okay. Can we have ice cream?” he asked, changing the subject.

Andromeda laughed. “You already had ice cream today, young man...and biscuits. I think that’s enough sweets for today. Maybe tomorrow you can have more,” she said. “Maybe...if you behave.”

Both Draco and Harry nodded when their son looked at them to make sure Aunt Andromeda’s answer was law.

“Sorry son...what she said goes,” Draco said, causing the boy to pout.

“But hey, I wouldn’t worry about it,” Harry put in. “When have you ever not behaved?”

Draco nodded. “Good point. You’ve always been daddy’s little helper.”

Caelum beamed proudly. “When will you be home, Dad?”

“Harry’ll go home with you tonight and my Healer said, as long as I get enough sleep tonight, I can go home tomorrow.”

“Daddy home tomorrow?” Orion asked, popping up and looking at Draco. Like Corvus, he’d had his thumb in his mouth and head buried the entire time, but wanted to be reassured that his father was coming back soon.

Draco nodded. “Sure will be.”

“As long as he gets some sleep tonight,” Harry corrected his boyfriend, then looked at the worried little boy. “Having babies is hard work and daddy is very tired. The Healers are here to make sure he gets the rest he needs. Do you understand?”

Orion nodded. “You sleep, daddy, so you can come home,” he said, causing Corvus to nod his agreement.

Draco laughed and nodded and pulled Orion back down onto his chest. “Don’t you worry, son, I will...and Harry will take good care of you tonight.”

“Can we sleep with you tonight, Poppy?” Orion asked, his dark head pushed firmly against Draco’s chest, but his gray eyes trained on Harry.

Harry shrugged. “Sure. I don’t see why not.”

Corvus sat up. “Me too?”

“Of course! We’ll have a slumber party,” Harry said. “Anyone who wants to come, can.”

Corvus clapped his hands. “Yay!”

Orion frowned. “Not Ron and ‘Mione though...they’re too big to fit.”

Ron smiled and Hermione giggled. “No, sweetie, not us. We have to get home to our daughter. Do you remember Rose?”

Orion nodded. “She has red hair like Lyri.”

Ron smiled and Hermione said, “Yes, she does.”

“What about you, Andromeda?” Harry asked with a grin. “You joining us?”

The older woman laughed. “As intriguing as a slumber party sounds, I think I’ll bow out as well,” she said. “Teddy and I are going to go home and get some rest, but we’ll be back tomorrow.”

“Thank you, Andromeda,” Harry said, “You’ve been unbelievably helpful.”

Draco nodded. “Yes, thank you, Aunt Andromeda. You are very kind.”

“You’re welcome, Draco. Harry,” the older woman said. “I’m very happy to be here. But now, I think we should go.”

“See you tomorrow,” Teddy said, grinning at Caelum.

“Bye, Teddy,” said the seven-year-old, after which he was quickly distracted by everything going on.

~ o ~

After kissing Draco goodbye and telling him to get some rest—demanding that he rest!—Harry took the children home—with Ron and Hermione’s help—and had a movie night.

Their movie night didn’t really last very long though, because they were all physically and emotionally exhausted. It had been a long day! And come the following day, there would be two new tiny human beings living among them. The thought of that was daunting, but also...wonderfully amazing! Harry now truly had a family.

Shifting to get comfortable in his crowded bed, the dark-haired man sighed, then looked at the children. Only Aria was missing, because he’d felt that she should be in her cot in her own room and not smashed into the bed with the rest of them. Scorpius, on the other hand, had vehemently objected when he’d tried to do the same to him. Harry had quickly capitulated, settling the two year old between Caelum and Corvus.

Orion and Corvus—and Scorpius too—were sound asleep. The twins had been the first to drop off into slumber. Even the short time they’d spent at the hospital that day had been enough to stress and exhaust them, making Harry curious about their fear of the place. He’d been under the impression that none of them got out much, because of Draco’s condition. Maybe that wasn’t so. He’d definitely have to ask Draco about that at some point. Like soon.

But now, with one of his twins on either side of him, snuggled into him lovingly, one of each of their small arms draped over his chest, Harry smiled. It was mind-blowing how much his life had changed in less than five months. He went from single and fatherless to being in a working relationship with seven children. He now had a family! With Draco Malfoy. His school-time rival. It was odd, but...brilliant!

“Harry,” came a quiet voice from the far side of the bed.

Turning, Harry saw Caelum’s eyes on him—and they were troubled. “What is it, Cael?”

The seven-year-old frowned. “I...ahh...I’m the only one who didn’t change to look like you.”

“Scorpius didn’t either,” Harry reminded the boy.

“But Scorp has a mother...none of the rest of us have one. Only dad and...you.”

Harry nodded. “Yes, that’s true,” he said, wondering where this was going.

“Scorp’s mum left him, because of Aria. I heard her yell that at daddy. Then she left us. I liked her, but...she must not have liked me, because she left.”

And suddenly Harry understood. “I’m not going anywhere, Caelum,” he said emphatically. “I promise, okay?”

Caelum nodded.

Reaching out over Corvus and Scorpius, Harry grabbed Caelum’s hand and squeezed it. He wished he could pull the worried boy into his arms, but they were basically full of the others.

“I promise, Caelum,” he repeated. “There’s nothing that could get me to leave you guys!”

Caelum frowned. “But...what if daddy gets pregnant again?”

“Well, first, that’s not going to happen, because we’ve figured this out, but...if it did, then we’d have another beautiful child to raise, wouldn’t we?”

Caelum nodded.

“And second,” Harry went on, “I would never leave a child of mine, so you don’t have to worry.”

But this only made Caelum frown some more. “But...I’m not your son,” he said, his bottom lip trembling. He was fighting tears, but wasn’t going to win.

“Ahh, Cael, is that what this is about?” Harry asked.

Nodding, Caelum blinked, causing big tears to fall.

“Oh, love, I know I wasn’t the one who created you, but you are mine...to me. So, whether you like it or not, I’m your other dad and I’m here to stay.”

“Can I call you poppy like Orion and Cory and Scorp do?” he asked, obviously still worried that his father’s boyfriend would say no.

“Of course!” Harry said, agreeing immediately. “I would absolutely love that.”

Caelum grinned. “Really?

Harry nodded. “You can call me anything you’d like, Caelum...as long as it’s not something naughty, of course. I don’t think your dad would like that much.”

The boy giggled, his gray eyes sparkling in his glee. “Okay. Thank you, Harry. I mean...Poppy.” Then he frowned again. “Do you think that sounds funny? Poppy, I mean.”

Harry shrugged. “It sounds fine to me, but you can use that or choose something else. I’m fine with anything.”

Caelum nodded. “So, daddy’s good too.”

“Yep!”

“You don’t think Dad would care?”

“Your dad and I have already talked about this, sweetie...he just wants you all to be happy. All we both want is for all of us to be happy.”

“Okay,” Caelum said, his voice much lighter now. “Goodnight, Daddy.”

“Goodnight, my son.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * really short chapter (sorry)  
> * time skip (23 days)  
> * playful bickering  
> * a holiday gift  
> * talk about past partners  
> * smut

A Different Gift  
Just over three weeks later...  
25 December 2007

~ o ~

Just as Harry came up the stairs and into the bedroom he shared with Draco, the blond exited their bathroom—his hair dripping wet from a fresh washing and wearing nothing but a pale green towel wrapped loosely around his once-again narrow waist.

“Hey there,” Harry said, immediately reaching out and pulling the near-naked man into his arms, then kissing the water droplets off Draco’s face and the column of his neck. “Have a nice shower?”

Giving one clipped nod, Draco tilted his head—to give Harry better access—then groaned as he shivered at the sensations running through him. “That feels nice.”

With a grin, Harry nipped roughly a few times, then straightened up and took Draco’s lips.

“Kids down?” Draco asked between kisses.

Harry nodded. “Yep. Had to read them three stories first, but they’re out now.”

Gray eyes rolled. “You’re such a pushover, Potter.”

Chuckling, Harry said, “That’s me...Pushover Poppy!”—then he attacked the blond’s lips again.

“You really can’t...let them have...everything they ask for...or...they’ll walk all over you,” Draco said between kisses. Harry made it so hard to concentrate!

The dark-haired man laughed. “Says Mr Spoilt Rotten!”

“I am not spoilt, Potter,” the blond objected.

“Pfft! You sooo are, Draco,” he said, then started kissing the gray-eyed man again.

Draco puffed out a breath, as if he were going to argue some more, but then he closed his eyes and smiled into the kiss—and basked in the love being rained down on him. He’d never known love like this before and he adored being worshipped. “Fatherhood suits you, Potter” he said after a good long snog.

“And speaking of pushovers,” Harry said as he quickly yanked Draco’s towel off and dropped it on the floor, then quickly gave the blond a firm push—onto their bed. “Kids down...and now it’s time for us to get down.”

Yelping as he landed smack in the center of the bed they shared, Draco glared up at Harry and tried to look affronted. “ABUSE!” he bellowed—then burst out laughing.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to get you up here,” Harry said as he pulled his t-shirt over his head, then unbuttoned his jeans. After pulling them down and off, Harry shucked his underpants and stood there staring at the naked blond who lay sprawled on their bed. “Merlin, you’re beautiful.”

Draco knew he was an attractive man, but every time Harry told him, it was like the first time. Blushing, he glanced away.

“And I love it when you turn all pink like that,” Harry said, which immediately caused Draco’s eyes to fly back to him.

“I am not pink!” he argued.

Harry just laughed—then knelt on the bed and crawled over the other man. “Of course you aren’t,” he whispered as he nudged Draco’s legs apart and settled himself between them. Reaching down, Harry took Draco’s cock in hand and stroked it, smiling at the man beneath him as he closed his eyes and moaned, then shuddered—all the while blushing from head to toe.

“That feels fantastic, Potter,” he sighed as he lay there shivering—then he felt Harry’s mouth encompass him engorged member and he groaned. “Merlin, Harry, if you don’t stop, I’m going to come.”

Harry backed off a bit and grinned. “Wouldn’t want that,” he teased, inching himself up and giving the blond another kiss on the mouth, then rolling over so that he was lying on his side, propped up on an elbow, and looking down at the man who lay sprawled. “Actually,” he went on, “I wanted to give you another Christmas gift. Or, maybe I’m asking you to give me another gift.” And then he blushed.

Frowning, Draco said, “I thought we were done with our holiday gifts to each other.”

Harry shrugged. “Well, yeah, but...I thought of something else I want.”

“O-kay,” the blond drawled. “And what exactly do you want?”

Harry’s face went from light pink to a very heated crimson. “I...I would like for you to...do to me what I do to you,” he said as quickly as he could, embarrassed to have asked.

Draco grinned. “Really?”

Harry nodded. “Is that wrong?”

“No! I just...I didn’t think that that was something you were interested in,” Draco said. “You know, because we’ve not done it before and you’ve never showed any interest...or even hinted at the desire.”

“Sorry.”

Draco shook his head. “Don’t be sorry, Harry...bottoming isn’t for everyone. H-have you done it before?” he asked curiously.

Reluctantly, Harry nodded; he’d been worried that admitting it would upset the blond—Draco could be a touch possessive at times—but it didn’t appear to. In fact, Draco grinned at the news.

“Anyone I know?”

Harry shook his head. “I doubt it...I didn’t realize I was gay until after we got out of school. I figured it out the hard way...while Ginny was attempting to get me off,” he explained. “It didn’t go well. She ended up asking me if I even liked girls, then started dragging me to gay bars in Muggle towns all over the place. I didn’t know such places existed.”

“So then...Muggles,” the blond stated, his nose scrunching up.

“Hey, don’t judge! There’s nothing wrong with Muggles,” Harry scolded. “They’re better for this sort of thing, actually...they don’t know who the fuck I am.”

Draco rolled his eyes. “I know that, Harry...and, despite what I’ve said in the past, I’m not a Muggle-hater. To be honest, I think you’re lucky. All my experience comes from when I was young...too young to really know what the fuck I was doing. And, because of my condition, I’ve not be able to be around anyone.”

“Hogwarts then?”

Draco nodded. “In fifth year I...figured it out during some drinking games in my Common Room. Then I woke up naked in the seventh year’s dorm, tangled up with a guy.”

Harry’s eyes widened. “Wow!”

“Yeah. I freaked out a little, but then I sort of started seeing the guy casually, but regularly...until the end of the term when he finished school. In sixth year, though I was busy fixing that bloody Vanishing Cabinet, I was approached by another seventh year. A Ravenclaw whose family was...well, they were sympathizers of You-Know-Who.” Swallowing hard, Draco avoided Harry’s green gaze. “Sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?”

“You know...everything.”

Harry shrugged. “Let’s not go there, okay?”

“Right.”

“Anyone else?”

Draco bit his lip, but didn’t respond—causing Harry to grin.

“There were others! Who?”

Draco blushed. “Um. Let’s just say that McLaggen wasn’t quite as straight as he proclaimed to be.”

Harry wrinkled his nose. “Cormac was such a prat.”

“But easy on the eyes and...not bad in the sack. I think he and I fucked in just about every classroom.”

Harry laughed. “Nice!”

“Wait. Was?”

Harry nodded. “He was killed in the battle.”

“Oh. I didn’t know,” Draco said with a frown. “Sorry.”

Without meaning to be nonchalant about a death, Harry shrugged. “A lot of people died, Draco.”

“I know,” Draco said quietly.

“Who else?”

“What makes you think there were others?” the blond asked.

Harry just stared at him, eyes narrowed.

“Fine. There was one other in during seventh year. A Hufflepuff,” he admitted.

Harry laughed again—and Draco scowled. “Don’t judge.”

Holding up his hands, as if in surrender, the dark-haired man said, “Hey, would I do that?”

“Probably not,” Draco said—then shrugged. “I was so relieved that Mother insisted I return to Hogwarts that year. I loathed staying at the manor with him there.” He shuddered. “It was awful.”

“I can imagine. But...let’s get back to the sex,” Harry said, intrigued. “Did they ever let you top?”

Reluctantly, Draco nodded, his face heated. “A few times. In fact, McLaggen preferred that I did...and the Puff liked to trade off.”

“Hmm. You were a busy little boy, weren’t you?” Harry said as he let his fingertips run over the blond’s bare chest.

Draco blushed again. “It was a great distraction from it all,” he said, trying to turn away from the man next to him—but Harry grabbed him to prevent it.

“Hey, no need to be embarrassed, Draco...we all did what we had to.”

“Not you.”

“Even me. I mean, I wasn’t fucking everyone I could, but...even me,” Harry conceded. “Times were hard for all of us...I recognize this.”

Draco sighed. “You sure are a good man, Potter. I never thought we’d be here,” he said, gesturing between them.

“Neither did I, Draco,” Harry said with a grin. “Now, are you going to...you know?”

“Bugger you?”

Harry laughed, then nodded. “Yes. That.”

“Absolutely,” the blond said as he sat up, then slowly pushed Harry to his back. “And after I’m done with you, Potter, you’re not going to know what hit you.”

Harry grinned and settled back. “Do your worst, blondie,” he taunted. Reaching up, Harry grabbed Draco by the hair and pulled him down for yet another kiss—then pushed him back so he could roll over.

“Like it from behind, do you?” Draco said with a smirk.

Harry laughed and looked back over his shoulder. “Actually, yes...I prefer it this way.”

Draco pouted a little. “Makes it sort of hard to see your face when you come, but...if that’s what you like, then that’s what you get,” he said as he spread Harry’s legs and moved between them. Then, leaning over, Draco picked up his wand and whispered a lubrication spell, then dropped the device on his bedside table and pushed himself into Harry’s ready and willing body.

“How do you like it, Harry?” Draco hissed in the dark-haired man’s ear as he snaked a hand under him to grasp and pull on his cock.

Shaking his head, Harry frantically pushed Draco’s hand away. “No. Don’t touch me there,” he said, “or I’ll come too fast. I don’t want to come fast. Just fuck me...hard,” he added, pushing back onto Draco’s length and causing the blond to groan. “And touch me everywhere else.”

Grinning, Draco ran his hands over as much of Harry’s body as he could reach, dragging his fingernails over all the exposed skin, then began pushing his cock into and pulling it out of Harry’s body. Draco moved slowly at first, because he wanted to savor the moment—it had been a very long time since he’d done this; so long, in fact, that he could hardly remember it—and then fast and hard, the way Harry’d requested. It felt brilliant!

~ o ~

“Thank you, Harry,” Draco whispered as he rolled off Harry’s spent body. “You are truly a gift.”

Face buried in the pillows, Harry grinned, then used his remaining strength to turn his head, so that he could see his lover. “As are you.”

“I can’t believe I have you here,” the blond said, sort of to himself—then he let his gaze fall on the man beside him. “That we’ve made a family together. Who would have thought?”

Harry chuckled. “I know, right? But what a beautiful family we have.”

Draco smiled and nodded. “Naturally.”

Harry grinned at the blond’s teasing—then tried to be serious. “You know, I’d like to adopt them. I mean, I know Orion, Corvus, Sirius, and Lyra are already mine, but...I’d like to be Caelum, Scorpius, and Aria’s daddy too...legally. Is that something you’d consider?”

At first Draco’s eyes widened—and then he had to look away, as they filled with tears.

“Hey,” said Harry, “don’t cry. I don’t have to if that’s not something you want. I just—”

“No!” Draco interrupted, his gray eyes focused on Harry’s emerald ones. “I would love it if you would adopt the rest of them. I’m just...overwhelmed. Merlin, Harry, I love you so much!” he said as the leaned over and captured the dark-haired man’s lips.

They didn’t often tell each other that—that they loved one another—because it seemed to come out sounding ridiculously trite, but they really were madly in love, despite their past. And they both knew it without saying the words every other sentence. But sometimes it was nice. Like now.

“I love you too, Draco,” Harry responded when his mouth wasn’t otherwise occupied. “And Caelum and Orion and Corvus and Scorpius and Aria and Sirius and Lyra. I love you all.”

Grinning, Draco sighed, then nestled his head on Harry’s chest and closed his eyes. “We better get some sleep before our little monsters wake us up. I suspect we only have about three hours.”

Harry chuckled. “That sounds about right.”

“Shhh. No more talking, love.”

Yawning, Harry gave the blond a squeeze, then closed his eyes too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. I went and saw Crimes of Grindelwald yesterday and REALLY loved it! I'm just so happy that the story is continuing. Or rather, that we're learning about what happened in JKR's world prior to HP and the gang.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * time skip (one month)  
> * lost and found  
> * Ministry  
> * cute kiddies  
> * family

Our Two Dads  
One month after the holidays...  
Friday, 25 January 2008

~ o ~

Draco was in his study ripping through his desk—and frantic!

“Where the fuck is it?!” he growled through clenched teeth as he flung open a drawer and briefly rifled through its contents, then slammed it shut when he didn’t see what he wanted in a timely fashion. Frustrated, Draco dropped into his desk chair and ran a hand through his now no longer neatly spelled hair. “Oh, for Salazar’s sake!”

“You all right, Draco,” came Harry’s voice from the doorway.

Glancing up, Draco sighed. “I think I’m losing my mind.”

“What’s wrong?” asked Harry as he stepped into the room and circled the desk to go to his boyfriend.

“I can’t seem to find the kids’ birth certificates. We need to bring them to the Ministry with us,” the blond explained. “I have them in a green file folder, but it’s nowhere to be found! I can’t believe I’ve lost it.”

Smiling, Harry reached out and pushed aside a book on Draco’s desk, then picked up something green that looked suspiciously like a folder. “You mean this?”

“Yes!” Draco exclaimed as he jumped up and grabbed the folder, then kissed Harry. “Thank you.”

“No problem.”

Sitting down again, Draco flipped through the contents of the folder, then closed it and looked up at Harry—who was now sitting on the corner of his desk.

“Must you sit with your arse on all my papers?”

Rolling his eyes, Harry got up and slid onto a chair. “You need to relax.”

Draco frowned. He hated it when his boyfriend said that, but he ignored it—this time—and instead said, “You know I how much I hate it when I misplace things and, since we used an extension charm to enlarge the flat, nothing seems to be where it belongs.”

“Draco, we didn’t move anything in your study.”

“I know, but...everything’s all fucked up in here too!” the blond complained as he through his hands up in the air.

After a quick glance around, Harry shook his head. “Looks the same in here as it always has,” he said. “Honestly, Draco, for someone who’s as much of a neat freak as you seem to be, your study looks like a cauldron exploded in here.”

“This is where I create, Potter...you know I have to have it this way,” Draco said. “And I’m not a neat freak.”

Harry snorted. “Yes, you most definitely are a neat freak,” he argued. “But, I know...to the creative mess part. It just seems so out of character for you.”

Picking up the green folder again, Draco pretended to intently study something inside.

“Nervous much?” the dark-haired man asked, standing again.

Without looking up, the blond nodded.

“Me too...I’m about to become the father of seven.”

Now Draco looked up. “You’re a fantastic father, Potter. Stop worrying.”

Harry’s brows shot up. “Says the man who was having a conniption, because he couldn’t find something that was sitting right here in plain sight,” Harry teased as he gently pried the folder from Draco’s hand and set it back on the desk, then pulled the blond to his feet, wrapped his arms around him, and kissed him lovingly.

Draco wanted to argue—he hated it when anyone accused him of any sort of hysterics—but, instead, he just smiled and let Harry hug and kiss him. In fact, he could almost forget his outburst over the ‘lost’ item. Almost.

“Well, it was hidden under a book,” the blond said after a nice long snog.

Rolling his eyes, Harry picked up the folder again and gave Draco a playful slap with it. “It was not hidden,” he said. “The book was barely covering it. You were just freaking out and couldn’t see past the end of your pointy nose.”

Gray eyes rolled at Harry’s words. “How many times do I have to tell you that Malfoys do not freak out, Potter? Wait. Did you just make a disparaging remark about my perfect nose?” Draco asked with a frown as he raised a hand to touch said body part.

Harry laughed. “Would you just shut it!” he said as he pulled Draco’s hand away from his face and tugged him toward the door. “Come on, Ron and Hermione will be here shortly and we should finish getting ready.”

“I am ready, Potter...now that I’ve found the children’s certificates,” the blond said as he tried—and failed—to snatch the green folder from Harry’s hand.

Holding the folder back, Harry laughed. “Who found it?”

“All right. Fine. You found it. Whatever,” Draco said with a dismissive wave of his hand.

“And we’re not ready yet,” Harry went on. “Aria needs her nappy changed and it’s your turn. And I think it’s quite a stinky one. No. Scratch that. It’s definitely a stinky one.”

Draco wrinkled his nose. “I’ll give you a hundred Galleons if you’ll do it.”

Harry laughed and shook his head. “No way, Malfoy! While were you primping, I fed the children and got them all dressed and ready, then showered and got myself together...then changed Sirius and Lyra again after they peed all over themselves, so they’d be fresh and clean for Ron and Hermione...then gave them all snacks to tide them over. I think you can change one shitty nappy, Draco.”

Draco huffed out a frustrated breath. “I wasn’t primping.”

“I don’t know why you find it necessary to argue with everything I say,” Harry said with a sigh. “You’re a primper, plain and simple. I’m fine with that and you should be too.”

Draco just glared.

“Besides, I’m not complaining. I love how beautiful you are.”

Draco puffed up a little at this.

“Now go get Aria in order, so we’ll be ready,” Harry ordered.

Huffing again, the blond scooped up his stinky nine-month-old daughter and left the room.

~ o ~

“So, send your Patronus if there’s a problem,” Draco said. He’d been giving Harry’s friends the third degree for twenty-ish mintues about how to care for the twins and they’d been quite patient. “You’re both able to send one, right?”

“Of course, Draco,” Hermione said, trying to hide a patronizing smile. “We’ve been proficient since fifth year, remember?”

Draco frowned. “Right. What are your Patronuses again?” he asked.

“Mine is an otter and Ron’s is a Jack Russell terrior.”

“Hmm. Are you sure you’re up for this?” the blond asked next.

“Malfoy! We are parents too, you know!” Ron snapped. “What the fuck is your problem?”

“Ron!” Hermione said, glaring at her husband, because there were children in the room.

“Ron, please, he’s just nervous,” Harry added.

“I am not!” Draco all but yelled.

“Hey! Don’t get shirty with me, Draco Malfoy,” Harry scolded. “We’ve already established that you are nervous...that we both are. It’s okay. There’s no reason to be embarrassed in front of my friends.”

Draco’s gray eyes flashed angrily—he hated it when Harry revealed these things in front of others...especially in front of his oldest friends—but he didn’t say anything.

Reaching out, Harry took Draco’s hand and gave it a firm squeeze. “Try to relax, love,” he whispered. “Ron and Hermione know what they’re doing. They have Rose, remember? They’ve done this before.”

Draco looked at the little red-haired girl that was playing at Hermione Weasley’s feet and tried to do what Harry wanted—relax—but it was hard. The little Weasley girl was now close to seventeen months old, but...one child wasn’t he same as twins. He bit his lip.

“We’ll be fine, Draco, I promise,” Hermione tried to reassure him. “There’ll be no need to send you a Patronus, but...if it’ll make you feel better, I swear to you that I’ll send one if there’s trouble.”

“And don’t forget that Andromeda and Teddy will be over in an hour, so there’ll be three adults here for most of the time we’re gone,” said Harry—completely ignoring Ron as he obnoxiously rolled his eyes.

“I didn’t forget. All right. Well, let’s go then or we’ll be late,” the blond said, as if he’d never been worried.

~ o ~

Sitting in a small room outside the office of the Minister for Magic, Draco held a sleeping Aria in his arms—and tapped his foot anxiously—while Harry bounced a smiling Scorpius on his knee. Across the sitting room, Caelum sat with Orion and Corvus on either side of him, reading them each and every children’s book that lay stacked on the table in the corner. The three of them were adorable and Harry couldn’t help but smile.

“What do you suppose the hold up is?” Draco asked quietly after a few minutes.

Harry shrugged. “Who knows. Could be anything. The Minister’s a busy man.”

“I know that!” the blond snapped. “Don’t you think I know that?”

“I know you know that, Draco,” Harry said patiently.

“It’s just...maybe he’s stalling and has no intention of giving us what we want.”

Sighing, Harry reached over and took Draco’s hand, then brought it to his lips and kissed it. “I know you don’t really think that, Draco,” he said. “And so, at the risk of pissing you off further, I’m going to ask you, once again, to relax. Besides, Kingsley wouldn’t do that.”

The blond glowered, but didn’t respond.

“Mister Malfoy. Mister Potter, the Minister will see you now,” the minister’s secretary said kindly to them from her desk. “Mr. Shacklebolt is expecting you just come on in.”

“Thank you, Margaretta,” Harry said.

Both men rose—as did the children—and started for the door. Positioning Scorpius on his hip, Harry reached out and opened the door to Kingsley’s office, then motioned for Draco to enter. For a second, the blond hesitated, but then he went in—followed by the three walking children, and then Harry.

“Harry! Great to see you again,” said the tall, black wizard as he stood up and reached for Harry’s hand. “It’s been a while.”

“Yes, it has been. Good to see you too, Kingsley,” Harry responded, taking the other man’s hand and giving it a firm shake. “Thank you for doing this for us. Probably the last thing you wanted to do at the end of a long week.”

“Think nothing of it. Legal adoptions are just grand, aren’t they? Hello again, Mister Malfoy,” the minister said, as he stuck his hand out. His tone for the blond wasn’t nearly as warm, but not even Draco could accuse him of being unkind. “Looks like things are going well for you.”

Draco nodded politely, but didn’t really know what to say. Even though Minister Shacklebolt had been part of the group who’d supported Draco not being sent to Azkaban after the war—probably thanks to Harry—Draco knew the ex-Auror wasn’t particularly fond of him. Draco didn’t blame him really, but it was still hard to deal with at times.

“Minister,” was all that Draco could manage.

“Well, have a seat, boys,” Kingsley said, “so we can get this thing moving.”

Both Harry and Draco sat down and the children crowded close.

“All right. Let’s have their birth certificates.”

Handing Aria to Caelum, Draco dug into his briefcase and pulled out the folder that held the documents and handed it over to the intimidating minister, then sat back.

“Relax,” Harry whispered in a barely audible voice before looking at the minister.

Kingsley opened the folder and flipped through the papers inside, hemming and hawing a few times, then looked up at Harry. “Just so that I understand this, you wish to adopt Draco Malfoy’s five children that were born prior to your relationship to him?”

Harry nodded. “Yes sir, I do.”

Kingsley nodded, then turned his head to look at Draco. “And this is what you want as well, Mister Malfoy?”

Draco nodded. “Yes sir, I do,” the blond said, copying Harry’s response.

Smiling, Kingsley nodded again. “Excellent.”

“We want it too, Mister Min’ster, sir,” Caelum put in with a serious look—after all, shouldn’t the children be asked as well? the boy was obviously thinking.

Kingsley’s gentle smile became a wide grin. “Well, of course you do, young man,” he said, his deep voice resonating about the room.

“I like your gold hooped earring,” Caelum said next, as he inched up to Kingsley’s desk to get a closer look at the single piece of jewelry dangling from his ear—causing Draco to sit up straighter in his nervousness.

“Why thank you, son,” the minister said, then smiled kindly at Draco before continuing. “Now, I’d like to make this as easy as possible, but I have a few questions to ask first.”

Everyone nodded.

“First, the children,” the minister said. After glancing at the papers in his hands, he looked up Draco’s oldest child. “Caelum Vincentius Malfoy, would you like Harry James Potter to be your other father?”

Caelum nodded his blond head vehemently. “I do, sir.”

“Then it is so!” Kingsley proclaimed.

Caelum grinned, his gray eyes sparkling, then looked proudly at his fathers.

“Next. Orion Severus Malfoy, do you wish for Harry James Potter to be your other father?”

Orion nodded. “Yes, but...we call him Poppy,” he corrected the minister.

Kingsley nodded. “Of course. Please forgive my mistake,” he said, then looked at Orion’s twin. “Corvus Alfred Malfoy, would you like Harry James Potter to be your other poppy?”

His eyes wide, Corvus nodded his head silently, his brown tousled hair bouncing with each bob.

Kingsley smiled. “Then it is so.”

Both Orion and Corvus clapped their hands while jumping up and down excitedly, then went to Harry and wrapped their small arms about him.

“Now, the other two are too young to be able to answer appropriately, but there are other ways.” Stopping, the man pulled out some legal papers and looked them over, then brought his eyes back up to Draco.

“As Aria is solely your daughter, Mister Malfoy, being of an essence pregnancy and all, all we need is your consent and Harry’s agreement. Obviously, I have that or we wouldn’t be here,” he said with a calm chuckle.

“Now, young Scorpius, on the other hand, is another matter,” Kingsley continued. “His adoption could be problematic. However, since we’ve received a signed and witnessed letter of release from Astoria Jade Greengrass, we’re also good as far as Scorpius is concerned. So, I suppose all I need to know is what surname the children should have.”

For a second, the two men froze—then Harry spoke. “It doesn’t matter, Draco...Malfoy is all they’ve ever known. It’s fine with me if you’d prefer to stick with that.”

Draco shook his head. “No. We gave Sirius and Lyra both, so let’s go with Malfoy-Potter for all of them.” Then he looked unsure. “Is that all right with you?”

Harry nodded, a smile on his face. “I think it’s perfect. Boys?” he asked, his eyes going to those who would be having their names changed slightly.

All four boys nodded, including Scorpius, because it seemed like the thing to do.

Sighing his relief, Draco looked back at Kingsley and smiled. “Malfoy-Potter.”

“Excellent,” the minister said. “Now, I have a few formal words. Petitioner, Harry James Potter, step forward please.”

Standing from his chair, Harry handed Scorpius to Draco, then approached the Kingsley’s massive mahogany desk.

“You are in a committed relationship with Draco Lucius Malfoy, the father of these children?”

Harry nodded. “Yes sir, I am.”

“Has Mister Malfoy consented to the adoption of the minor children?”

“Yes sir,” Harry said again, his eyes going to Draco, who nodded his agreement.

“Will you therefore execute an agreement, in the presence of the court, that the children, born of Draco Lucius Malfoy, will be treated in all respects as your lawful children?”

Again Harry nodded. “Yes, of course.”

“All right then. Sign here please,” Kingsley said, pointing to where he needed Harry’s signature.

Smiling, Harry picked up a quill and dipped it in ink, then signed his name.

Kingsley’s eyes then went to the blond man. “Draco Lucius Malfoy,” he continued.

“Yes sir,” Draco said, jumping to his feet and almost falling in the process.

“I must confess that all this didn’t sit right with a great many people when it became known,” the minister said calmly once Draco was settled in front of him—causing a frown to crease Draco’s brow. “Being that the two of you were on opposite sides during the war and, frankly, fought like Kneazles and Crups when you were boys, or so I’m told...well, the idea of this,” he said, gesturing between the two men, “is just...odd. To be honest, it felt wrong. However, even I can admit that anyone with any sort of basic Muggle vision can see that there’s something special here, and that makes me happy for Harry and the children...and for you too, Mister Malfoy.”

Draco’s frown eased a bit. “Despite my past with Harry, he very much makes me happy. Thank you, sir.”

“You’re welcome, young man,” Kingsley said. “Now...pretty much the same question for you. Are you, Draco Lucius Malfoy, willing to enter into an agreement, in the presence of the court, that these children, your biological children, will now be treated, in all respects, as the lawful children of Harry James Potter, and shall hereafter be known as Caelum Vincentius Malfoy-Potter, Orion Severus Malfoy-Potter, Corvus Alfred Malfoy-Potter, Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy-Potter, and Aria Iris Malfoy-Potter?”

“Yes sir, that is what we all want,” Draco said.

Kingsley nodded. “Excellent. Sign here then please,” Kingsley said, pointing to the line that required a signature, just under Harry’s.

Reaching for a quill, Draco signed his name, then grinned. “Is that it?”

“Just about,” Kingsley said.

Taking the papers back from Draco, the minister looked them over, made a few notes on the paperwork, and signed them himself—then held them up and banged them on his desk.

“Hand these to the clerk please,” he said next, holding out the small even stack of legal paperwork and nodding toward the person sitting at the back of the room.

Nodding, Draco took the papers and quickly handed them off, then returned to his chair—where Harry reached out and grabbed his hand and grinned at him.

“Well, looks like you two gentlemen are now the happy parents of seven...and you children have two very happy fathers. Good luck to you all.”

~ o ~

In the lift, on the way back down to the atrium—where they could Floo home—Harry was, once again, bouncing Scorpius in his arms while the other three boys giggled happily. Draco was quiet, but extremely happy, and his expression showed it.

“So...ahh...I totally understand Orion’s middle name. Severus. It’s perfect,” he said. While he’d not been fond of the man his son was named after, he completely understood and thought it was fitting. Severus Snape was the bravest man he’d ever known and Harry couldn’t think of a better name choice. “But...Alfred? Where in Merlin’s name did you get that one?”

Draco chuckled. “I was wondering how long it would take you to ask about that. Let me tell you, you’re going to be shocked, but...” he drawled.

“Well, tell me...I’m dying here!”

“Corvus’ middle name is supposed to be honor to Albus Dumbledore and...Fred Weasley.”

Harry’s eyes widened with surprise, but he didn’t utter a word; he was speechless.

“Too presumptuous?” the blond asked after a moment of silence.

Harry shook his head. “No! I love it. Do the Weasleys know?”

Draco pulled a face, then shook his head. “When would I have ever told them, Potter?”

“They should know.”

Draco shook his head again. “I’m not telling them. What if it pisses them off? I don’t think I could handle that right now. At the time I didn’t care what they thought and I didn’t think I’d ever have to face them, but now...I guess I’m still just a coward, huh?”

“No, you’re not!” Harry exclaimed. “And there’s no way the Weasleys would be upset over this, Draco. They would be flattered...and floored. In fact, I think you’d even be able to make Ron cry with news like this.”

Draco grinned. “That’s good to know. I like leverage.”

Harry laughed. “And Corvus’ middle name is just as perfect as Orion’s,” he went on. “Thank you. And, for the record, I never really thought you were a coward.”

Draco snorted, but accepted Harry’s lips when the man leaned over and kissed him passionately—until Scorpius reached up and pulled on both his and Harry’s hair.

“Want kisses too,” the two-year-old said—demanded really—and of course both fathers complied.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * longer time skip (10 months & 1 week)  
> * 1st Birthday Party  
> * Malfoy Manor  
> * Discussions

Happy Birthday!  
Approximately ten months later...  
2 December 2008

~ o ~

Now, a year after the Sirius and Lyra had been born, Draco and Harry sat in one of many grand rooms at Malfoy Manor, enjoying yet another one of Narcissa Malfoy’s lovely get-togethers. During the year, the woman had thrown many a party; first, a small family gathering for the Christmas hols, just twenty-three days after the twins’ birth, then several more...a joyous adoption celebration at the end of January, Saint Valentine’s Day in February, Easter Day in late March, a joint birthday party for Aria and Teddy in April, Orion and Corvus’ birthday party in May, one for Draco a few days later in June, another one in June for Caelum, Harry’s birthday in July, a joint birthday party in mid-September for Andromeda and herself, a costume party for Halloween in October, a birthday party for Scorpius in November, and now Sirius and Lyra. The woman had been busy, busy!

“This really is very kind of your mum,” said Harry. Draco’d been grumbling about yet another gathering at the manor and Harry wanted to reassure his boyfriend that it was fine with him.

Draco sighed. “Yes, I know, but...it would be nice if my father would take part.”

Harry followed the blond’s glowering gaze over to his father and frowned; Lucius Malfoy sat across the room, all by himself, pretending to be occupied with a book—though they both knew the man was paying attention to every detail.

“Do you think he’ll ever recover from this?” the dark-haired man asked, referring to the relationship he shared with the Malfoy patriarch’s only son.

Draco shrugged. “Fuck if I know.”

Pursing his lips, Harry reached out and took up Draco’s hand. For a moment his touch was resisted, then Draco gave in and grasped back.

“He’ll get used to us. Give him time, hon—” Harry started—but stopped.

Glaring, because he hated it when Harry called him that or any other pet name—it was so undignified—Draco snapped. “Father has had more than enough time to get used to us, Potter! I’m sick of his shite! He completely ignores my children...our children. He glares daggers at you. I really think he’d make an attempt on your life if he thought he could get away with it.”

Harry chuckled. “Probably.”

“No probably about it!” Draco growled, his gray eyes blazing furiously. “He’s such an arse! And he avoids me altogether. How can a father pretend his own son doesn’t exist? He’s only here because Mother’s making him attend, you know.”

Harry nodded. Of course he knew all those things. “It’s fine, Draco. The part about me, I mean,” he said. “I mean, I don’t particularly like him either, but...I would like things to be different. And, at least he’s here...even if he’s being coerced. I wonder how your mother did it. Got him here, I mean.”

Draco shrugged. “Who knows! She probably threatened him with dire consequences.”

“You think she’s withholding sex?”

Draco’s entire face scrunched up. “That’s disgusting, Potter! Don’t be vulgar!”

Harry laughed. “You sound just like your mother when you say that,” he said, giving Draco’s hand a little squeeze. “Relax. Everything will fall into place sooner or later.”

“Pfft! More like never,” scoffed the blond.

“Harry dear,” Narcissa cut in. “May I speak with you? In the kitchens.”

Smiling up at Draco’s mother, Harry nodded. “Sure. I’ll be right there.”

Returning his smile, the blonde woman moved away from them and Harry looked back at Draco.

“You’re not naïve enough to think your parents don’t engage in—”

“Harry! I swear to Merlin, if you finish that sentence, I’m going to Crucio you,” Draco hissed as he pulled his hand from Harry’s and glared.

The dark-haired man snickered; it was far too easy to rile the blond up, but Harry loved doing it. “What do you suppose your mother wants? Should I be scared?”

“Scared? Of Mother?” Draco shook his head. “You know she adores you.”

“Yeah, well...still. It’s all a bit ominous, don’t you think? Her wanting to see me privately. Plus, she can be a scary witch when she wants to be. Look how she keeps your father in line.”

“Just go see what she wants. I’m going to go make an attempt at talking with Father.”

Harry nodded. “All right, but...try not to let him discourage you,” he said—then added, “I mean it,” when he caught Draco’s eye. He could tell the other man was already feeling disheartened. Both of them were standing now and, despite the fact that Lucius Malfoy was in the room and could easily see them—and wouldn’t approve—Harry pulled Draco close and kissed him, first on the forehead and then on his pink pouting lips. “I love you,” he whispered after nibbling on Draco’s lips enough to make them redden.

“Thanks a lot, Potter! I’m sure Father loved that stunning display,” Draco bitched—though he was clearly warmed by Harry’s actions and words.

Harry grinned, but wouldn’t release the blond until he heard what he wanted to hear.

“Love you too, Harry,” Draco finally said.

Leaning in, Harry nipped at Draco’s mouth again, then gave his bum a loving slap and walked away.

~ o ~

“That was positively revolting,” Lucius Malfoy drawled as Draco walked up to him. He didn’t even bother to look up from his book.

“I’m surprised you’re aware of anything going on in the room, Father...can’t even be arsed to participate.”

After pretending to finish his paragraph, Lucius finally lowering the book, then glared up at his son. “Don’t get smart, Draco. And I don’t appreciate the language.”

Draco rolled his eyes. “My apologies, Father.”

The outside corner of Lucius’ left eye twitched. “That was hardly sincere.”

“When you show sincerity, then I’ll reciprocate.”

“What is it that you want?” the older man asked, looking bored.

“Just a moment of your time, Father.”

Looking down at his book, Lucius picked up a silver page marker and gently closed his book over it, then stood up. “We can speak in my study,” he said—then started away without looking back to see whether or not Draco followed.

~ o ~

In the main kitchens, Harry found Narcissa physically pulling a cookie sheet out of the oven and smiled at the image she gave him. Wearing a pale yellow apron with a spattering of flour on the front and a pair of thick baby blue oven mitts, she looked like the face of domesticity.

“Here, let me help you, Narcissa,” Harry said, crossing the room to assist the woman as soon as he recovered. “Where’s Mipsy?”

“Oh. She’s entertaining the children,” the woman said. “I actually enjoy baking, Harry. It’s relaxing. And, it’s the best way to manipulate that stubborn husband of mine. He loves these.”

Harry laughed.

“I’m sorry he’s so horrible to you, dear.”

Harry shrugged. “I’m more bothered by his treatment of the children. Or, more accurately, his lack of attention to them. It hurts their feelings and...Draco’s too, though he refuses to truly admit it.”

Narcissa frowned. “I’m not sure what to do about that,” she said as she used her wand to magick the cookies off the cookie sheet and onto a cooling rack, then walked the pan to the sink and washed it by hand. “Lucius is just so...stubborn.”

Harry smiled as he watched her work—he was amused that she’d used magic to transfer the cookies, but not to remove them from the oven or wash the pan—but frowned when she’d finished and looked at him.

“Draco is like his father in that way,” he said. “An obstinate git, at times.”

“Is he?”

Harry shrugged. “It took us years to bury the hatchet.”

“Bury the hatchet?” the blonde woman queried as she dried her hands on a cloth then Vanished it.

“Oh. Um. Sorry. It’s a Muggle saying I learned when I was over in America on business. It means to make peace...settle differences.”

“Ahh,” she said, giving a nod of understanding. “We have a similar saying: holster ones wand. Though, it’s hardly ever used.” Then she smiled at Harry and took his hands. “I am ever so pleased that you and my Draco have...buried your wands,” she said, mixing up the two different terms. “It’s wonderful for a mother to see her son happy.”

Harry grinned. “Well, that is what I want...to make Draco happy."

“I am so glad to hear that, dear,” she said. “So...why then have you not proposed a bonding?”

Harry blinked. “A what now?” he asked, confused. He thought they’d already bonded. Wasn’t that the reason why no other wizard was capable of impregnating his boyfriend anymore.

“A bonding, dear,” she repeated. “It’s like a Muggle marriage ceremony.”

“Oh. Is that possible for two wizards?” Harry asked, surprised. “Because some Muggles frown on that.”

Narcissa nodded. “Some in the magical community do as well, dear, but...yes, it’s quite possible. I doubt Draco’s mentioned it, but I’m sure he would prefer to be legally bonded as well as physically. He was, after all, raised to believe it is proper. And I would like to see my grandchildren grow up in a proper home.”

Harry frowned. “I was raised that way too, Narcissa...that people should be properly wed before having children, but...I hardly think that matters to people these days.”

Narcissa’s eyes widened in shock. “Oh, but it does, Harry. It matters to Dra—”

“Wait. You didn’t let me finish,” Harry said, interrupting her. “Please don’t misunderstand. I would like to marry Draco...bond with him...but these things take time. I know we’ve done things backwards, but...we’ll get there. I promise.”

Narcissa let out a relieved breath, then smiled—which made her blue eyes light up and sparkle beautifully. “Oh, thank Salazar. I thought you were going to tell me you had no intention of bonding with Draco. He would be devastated.”

Harry shook his head. “On the contrary,” he said, “I was actually trying to think of a way to ask him about making this more permanent, but I didn’t know what our options were. Obviously, I’ve never done this before. I’d like to get it right. But Draco isn’t just any bloke; it’ll have to be perfect.”

“I think that, as long as it’s you and he knows you love him, nothing else will matter,” she said. “In fact, as much as I’d love to give you both the grandest wedding ever, I think Draco would prefer it more if you two just slipped away and did it privately.”

“I think I’d like that better too,” Harry said, a silly grin on his face.

“Oh good. I am so glad you’re receptive. I was so afraid...”

Harry frowned as Narcissa’s words trailed off. “That I didn’t really want him?”

She shrugged. “Well, like you said, you two have had a rough time over the years, and...it’s not like you planned for this. Draco and the babies and a house full of children. I’m not sure there’s a person in your life who would blame you if you didn’t want this and chose not to be a part of it. But I thank you for staying and for loving my little dragon.”

Harry grinned. “I do, Narcissa...love your dragon.”

“I guess he’s yours now, isn’t he?” she said quietly, her eyes sad, as if she were losing her one and only son.

“I don’t mind sharing him, Narcissa.”

“You’re such a good man, Harry dear. Our Draco is so lucky.”

“As am I.”

~ o ~

“All right, Draco, you now have my undivided attention,” said Lucius Malfoy as he settled himself in the chair behind his desk and folded his hands in his lap. “What is it that you want?”

“For starters, I would very much like it if you’d acknowledge all your grandchildren. I have seven children, you know. Not just Scorpius.”

Lucius’ lips thinned. “Scorpius is the only one conceived and birthed naturally and, as such, he is the only one I consider a Malfoy heir.”

Draco frowned. He’d known his father wasn’t happy with how his children had come about, but he hadn’t known the man basically despised them. “They’re still my children, Father. Conceived by a Malfoy and carried within a Malfoy body. How does that make them any less than Scorpius?”

“That first one is...a Goyle,” the man said, his lip curling with disgust.

“First off, the first one has a name. It’s Caelum. Caelum Vincentius Malfoy!” Draco barked.

“Malfoy-Potter,” Lucius corrected.

“Whatever!” Draco snapped. “And second, there is no Goyle in him at this point. As you can plainly see, if you took the time to actually look at him, he is one hundred percent Malfoy after eight years.”

Lucius waved his hand dismissively. “One’s beginnings are extremely important, Draco. Have you learned nothing in your twenty-eight years?”

“I think where one ends up and how he gets there ought to be much more important than where he starts out. In any case, Caelum is my son. My first child. Your grandson. Why would anything but that matter?”

Lucius ignored the question. “And your second two are mutants. They don’t even look like Malfoys anymore.”

Frowning, Draco shook his head. “They too have names, Father. And you know very well why Orion and Corvus have changed. They’ve shifted because of Harry...because Harry’s biologically their other father,” he explained—even though he knew his father already knew these things. “It’s a good thing that we know this now. I’m happy for them. And they do still look like Malfoys...they have our eyes, if not our hair.”

Lucius shook his head. “And the girl?”

“Aria is Harry’s now too. She’s shifted to be his genetically as well, because he and I have bonded. It’s as simple as that.”

“She’s a mutant.”

Draco reached up and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Aria’s not misshapen, Father. She’s perfect! Have you looked at her lately? She always had the shape of mother’s face and eyes and now she has her coloring as well. She’s lovely.”

“They’re just not the same as Scorpius, Draco,” said Lucius, shaking his head again.

“Same...different...all children are different, Father. Why can’t you just accept them?”

“Because I cannot!”

Draco huffed. “I did not miss the adoring looks you and mother had on your faces when you held Sirius and Lyra in the hospital after they were born.”

Lucius glanced away. “You were imagining things.”

“I wasn’t.”

“That was a year ago, Draco. They will receive no adoration from me.”

“Merlin, you are such a bastard!” Draco growled as he began to pace. “How can you be so bloody cold?!”

Again, Lucius ignored his son’s question. “So, are we finished here?” he asked instead, moving to stand up.

“No! We are not fucking finished here!” the younger man bellowed, gesticulating wildly. “I am so tired of your shite!”

“I see you’ve learned a few colorful words from Potter,” Lucius said during his son’s rant—basically to himself. “So uncivilized. Comes from poor stock.”

“Oh, for Salazar’s sake! Do you even hear yourself?! You sound just like Harry’s ignorant Muggle relatives.”

Lucius made a show of shuddering. “Do not compare me to those insignificant creatures, Draco.”

Rolling his eyes, the younger man shrugged. “Why? It’s true. They hate him for the part of him that’s magic and you hate him for the part of him that’s not. And both of you blame it on breeding.”

“Bad breeding is a problem,” Lucius said disdainfully.

“And I would very much like it if you’d drop your contempt. It’s really quite unbecoming after all this time.”

The elder Malfoy snorted. “I cannot help how I feel. You know I do not approve of your...relationship with Potter—”

“Well, Harry’s not going anywhere, Father, so you need to get over it!”

“I don’t need to do anything,” Lucius countered.

Frowning, Draco shifted on his feet. “Did you not once tell me that it was not prudent to appear less than fond of him, Father?" he asked, parroting his father’s words back to him.

“Pfft!” the older man scoffed. “You were twelve at the time, Draco, and you are well aware that that was all about appearances. I did not mean that you should procreate with the man. He is beneath you.”

“Except for when I’m beneath him,” mumbled Draco.

“What was that?”

“Nothing,” Draco said—then turned pleading eyes on his father. “I love him,” he whispered. “I would like to bond with him...with your blessing.”

“You are bonded to him,” Lucius said through clenched teeth.

Draco shook his head. “You know what I mean. I want a proper bonding ceremony.”

“So, have one,” Lucius said flippantly. “No one is stopping you.”

Shifting again, Draco moved to sit in the chair facing his father, then looked him directly in the eyes. “I want to commission a ring with the family crest, Father...to give to Harry.”

Lucius pursed his lips. “That’s not going to happen, Draco. I will not have a half-blood, especially that one, wearing the Malfoy family crest. It would be unseemly.”

Draco fought to remain upright, but he wanted to slump over and break down. “There is no convincing you, is there?” he asked, his tone flat.

“Maybe you should ask your mother for access to the Black family crest,” the older man suggested. “To be honest, I think your Potter would prefer it.”

“Harry!” Draco snapped, leaning forward in his chair. “His name. Is Harry! And yes, maybe I’ll do just that...and change my name to Black too, since apparently I’m not good enough to be a Malfoy anymore.”

Lucius blinked at this, surprised. “I did not say you’re not good enough. I said that—”

“I know what you said, Father,” Draco interrupted, “but your meaning is crystal clear. You won’t accept six of my seven children or the man who’s in my life. None of them are going anywhere, so...I guess it means I’m out too!”

And with that Draco was on his feet and out of his father’s study—and trying to compose himself before he reached the room that held his family.

~ o ~

As soon as Draco entered the room where everyone was gathered, Harry knew he was upset. His face was pleasant enough, but the dark-haired man could easily see through the mask.

“What happened?”

Draco shook his head. “My father is never going to accept us,” he said flatly.

Harry frowned.

“I need a drink.”

“What would you like?” Harry asked immediately. “Wine or Firewhisky?”

Draco laughed. “As much as the situation calls for a nice stiff Firewhisky, Mother would be appalled if I were to start in on the hard stuff at a children’s party.”

“Right. Wine it is then. Red or white?”

“Red. Mother keeps the elf-made wine in the main drawing room.”

Harry shuddered. “I hate that room.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” the green-eyed man said as he leaned in and kissed Draco’s cheek. “I’ll be right back.”

~ o ~

Harry moved quickly through the ground floor of the manor and up to the first floor drawing room where Draco said the wine would be. Even after all the years that had passed, he was still a bit creeped out by the things that had taken place here. The fact that Voldemort had taken the place over and murdered people here...that he and his friends had been held hostage, Hermione tortured, here. Harry shuddered.

“Is there something I can do for you, Mister Potter?” came a voice from the doorway.

Not quite startled, Harry turned. “Um. Draco wanted some wine, Mister Malfoy, so I told him I’d get it.”

Lucius Malfoy stood there for a second without saying anything, then crossed the room and opened a cabinet. Pulling out a bottle, he uncorked it, poured himself a glass, then handed the bottle to Harry.

“What would it take to make you disappear, Potter?” the older man asked.

For a moment, all Harry could do was stare—and then he laughed. “I’m not going anywhere, Mister Malfoy.”

Lucius’ eyes narrowed. “There are ways to get rid of you.”

“Hmm. Others have tried, but...as you can see, still here,” Harry said.

“This is true,” agreed Lucius. “But maybe I could...make it worth your while.”

Harry’s brows shot up. “Worth my while to leave my children and the man I love?” He shook his head. “Never.”

The older man winced at Harry’s proclamation of love. “You cannot possibly love Draco that much.”

“Why, because you don’t?”

“I resent that, Mister Potter. There is no end to a father’s love.”

“As a father myself, I understand the concept completely,” Harry said, “but I’m not sure that you do. If this is true for you, and you love Draco as you profess, then why can’t you just accept that Draco and I are together?”

“What the two of you are doing is...improper. Offensive.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “This is the twenty-first century, Mister Malfoy, most people are no longer offended by homosexuals. And...we’re wizards. Draco has secured you an heir, seven of them, in fact, so you can rest assured that your family name will continue.

Lucius’ lip curled up. “My family name is not Malfoy-Potter!”

Harry frowned. “Is that what’s bothering you, sir?” he asked, confused.

Lucius did not answer at first—and then he said, “A year ago there were five children with the surname Malfoy...and then Draco birthed your offspring and suddenly there no longer were.”

“If I’d known changing their names would have caused this,” Harry whispered, trying to remember exactly when the blond man had seriously turned against them as a couple, “I would never have agreed to it. But it’s done now, Mister Malfoy. The kids are happy. I’m happy. Draco’s happy. And...I’d really like to marry him. Bond with him. Make no mistake, I’m going to do it no matter what you say, but I’d really rather have your blessing, because I know Draco wants your approval. He claims that he doesn’t care, but I know that he does. It’s what all children wish for, isn’t it, parental approval? Draco’s lucky to at least have a chance at that, because, unlike my parents, his are still alive. Couldn’t you just give us this one little thing?”

Lucius just stared at him—and so Harry turned and walked out of the room.

~ o ~

At the end of the day—a very long day—when Draco and Harry and all their children were finally home again, the two men settled onto the sofa in the family’s lounge to watch some television. It still amused Harry that Draco Malfoy’s house had so many Muggle appliances and devices, but...the man had had to live more like a Muggle than a wizard for several years, so....

“So, I know you talked to my father,” Draco whispered as he let his head sag to Harry’s shoulder.

Tipping his own head over, so that it was leaning on the top of Draco’s, Harry yawned and pushed his right hand into his trouser pocket. “Hmm.”

Draco laughed. “What’d you say to him?”

“How’d you know I talked to Lucius?”

“He might have mentioned it before we left.”

“He caught me in the drawing room when I was getting your wine,” Harry admitted.

“I wondered what took you so bloody long.”

Harry chuckled, then sighed. “He’s upset that we changed the children’s last names.”

Draco sat up and looked at Harry. “Are you serious?”

Harry nodded. “He didn’t say that...not in so many words, but...yeah, that’s part of the problem. That and the fact that he finds our relationship ‘improper’ and ‘offensive.’”

With a snort, Draco said, “Don’t forget ‘revolting.’”

“He is so full of shite, Draco,” said Harry. “Do you remember his face in the hospital when the twins were born?”

Draco nodded. “I know, right?”

“Anyway, I hate being the cause of discord. If you want, we could...change their names back.”

“First, not going to happen, Potter,” Draco said quickly. “They are Malfoy-Potters and it’s staying that way. And my father can go fuck himself if he doesn’t like it! Second, you don’t want that anyway. You want your children to have your surname just like any other man does. But thank you for being the bigger person and offering such a thing. I honestly don’t know what I did to deserve you, but...thanks for that too. You are truly a wonderful man,” Draco said, leaning forward to kiss the man next to him. Then he backed away slightly and grinned. “And third...my father gave in.”

“What?!”

Draco nodded. “When I talked to him earlier, when you were having that chat with Mother, I basically threatened to change our names to Black if he was going to be such an arse. I didn’t think he cared. It didn’t seem like he did, but...when we were leaving, he told me he didn’t want that. So I told him what it would take for us to remain Malfoy-Potters. He didn’t like it, of course, but he had no choice but to capitulate.”

“Hmm. Wow!” was all Harry could say.

Draco nodded. “Wow is right,” he said, a huge smile on his face. “Now, I’d really like it if you would just take me to bed. I’m feeling a bit needy at the moment.”

“Because that’s something unusual,” Harry quipped as he reached up and ran his fingers gently over the blond’s somewhat stubbly jaw, then up into his hair before taking his lips in a fiery kiss.

“Bed,” Draco hissed when it seemed like Harry might just take him on the downstairs sofa.

Grinning, Harry wrapped his arms around the blond, then Apparated them three floors up to their bedroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Questions? Comments? Please let me know what you think. =)


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * short time skip (23 days)  
> * Malfoy-Potter Christmas morning  
> * proposals  
> * whiny Narcissa  
> * The Burrow  
> * Quidditch  
> * surprise visit

Happy Christmas!  
Just another day in the lives of Draco and Harry...  
25 December 2008

~ o ~

This was only Harry’s second Christmas as a father, but he knew that waking up before the children on Christmas morning was quite the anomaly; children just seemed to have an internal clock that had them up and about—and wide-fucking-awake—long before sunrise on this grand day. Not that Harry ever was while growing up. No, he’d had no reason to rise early on Christmas morn when he was a child.

Well, except to cook for the Dursleys.

But most children did have cause to rise early and Harry was surprised that he did not hear the pitter-patter of little feet. But that was fine with him, because he could get a lot more accomplished without having to answer their endless questions, make small talk, or change dirty nappies.

Glancing at his sleeping boyfriend—Draco seemed to be out!—Harry smiled, then carefully rolled out of bed and went straight to the bathroom. After having a piss—which wasn’t exactly easy without the usual relief of his morning...issues—Harry washed his hands, then headed down to the kitchen to make coffee and start breakfast before the house was booming with activity.

But he only got as far as the second floor landing. As Harry was rounding the stairs to continue down, he saw Caelum’s door inch open just enough for the boy’s tousled blond head to poke out, a happy grin on his face.

“Hey, buddy,” Harry said, stopping. “Father Christmas fill your stocking?”

Caelum’s grin widened and he bobbed his head. “Uh-ha.”

“Anything good?” he asked, knowing that the boy would have already spilled the filled stocking and riffled through its contents.

“Yep,” he said—then pouted a little. “No Crup though. I think Father Christmas listened to dad.”

“I’m sorry,” Harry said, trying not to smile at the adorable pouty face his son was displaying. Then, to change the subject, he asked, “Wanna help me with breakfast?”

Quickly forgetting the Crup he apparently hadn’t received for Christmas, Caelum nodded. “Can we have jam doughnuts?”

Starting down the stairs again, Harry scratched his ear. “Um. Yeah. I think we have some.”

“How about kippers? Can I have kippers too?”

Harry frowned. “With jam doughnuts?”

Caelum nodded. “It’s Christmas, I want everything,” he said excitedly.

Harry laughed. “Fine then, but don’t eat so much you make yourself sick...we have a big day ahead of us.”

“Can I have hot chocolate too?”

Harry shrugged. “Sure. Why not?”

“Because dad says it makes me spazdic,” the boy said honestly.

Chuckling, Harry corrected the boy. “I think you mean spastic.”

“Yeah. That.”

“And maybe that’s not such a great idea. Your dad will kill me if you’re bouncing off the walls when he gets down here.”

Again Caelum pouted for a moment, then nodded. “Will you make fresh orange juice? I really like it fresh...’specially when you make it.”

“Yes, I know you do...and of course I will,” Harry said as they reached the ground floor and turned to go into the kitchen. Grabbing the boy by the waist, Harry swung him up and onto the counter, then proceeded to make his and Draco’s morning coffee. Draco liked his sickeningly sweet and so Harry also pulled out the sugar and dumped in a massive amount, then added some hazelnut-flavored powder, which the blond practically had an orgasm over every time he consumed it.

“Why does dad like that nut stuff in his coffee?” Caelum asked.

“Because it’s sweet...like you,” Harry said, then dipped a finger in the powder and offered it to the boy.

Opening his mouth, Caelum licked the hazelnut powder off Harry’s finger, then grinned. “Yummy.”

Harry nodded, then went to the refrigerator and started taking things out for their breakfast. After covering the counter beside his son with the food he was going to make, Harry rummaged around for the proper pans and got them heating on the cooker.

“Hey, Cael,” he said when he noticed the coffee was about ready. “Would you mind going down to my old place and getting my favorite mug?”

Caelum frowned. “What’s it doing down there?” he asked as he slid forward and jumped off the counter.”

“I was hiding one of your dad’s Christmas gifts yesterday morning and forgot to bring it back up.”

“Oh,” Caelum said, then he nodded and ran off.

Chuckling, Harry opened a cupboard and pulled out his favorite cup—he’d fibbed about leaving it downstairs—and started preparing his own coffee—he liked vanilla flavoring—then took a sip and waited for the boy to return. It only took a nano-second.

“Daddy! Daddy!” Caelum screamed as he ran back into the kitchen, his arms wrapped around a white ball of fur. “Look what I found downstairs.”

Pretending to be surprised, Harry set his cup down, then knelt beside the boy. “Wow, Cael, Father Christmas must really like you.”

Caelum grinned. “Dad’s not going to be too happy with him though,” he said. “How many times did he say no Crup?”

“I said it at least fifty times,” came Draco’s voice from the doorway.

“Oh, but Dad, he’s brilliant,” Caelum said. “Don’t you think so? I can keep him, right? I promise that I’ll take care of him. And he’s not really a Crup...just a Muggle puppy, see?”

Setting their younger set of twins on the floor—who immediately toddled over to Caelum and the puppy—Draco looked at their oldest child and smiled. “Of course, son, I wouldn’t take a Christmas gift away from you,” he said—then cast a glare at Harry and mouthed, you little fucker!

Harry only managed to look slightly sheepish. He’d known he’d be in trouble with Draco, but the look of pure joy on Caelum’s face when he came upstairs with his new puppy made it all worth it. Besides, he knew Draco wasn’t really angry about it. Though the blond kept telling Caelum no, Harry knew he was softening on the issue and was just about to relent. Harry’d just moved that up a bit.

“You are in so much trouble,” Draco whispered as he went to the coffeemaker and poured himself a cup, then took a sip—moaning obscenely after swallowing.

Harry grinned.

“Not that kind of trouble, Potter,” the blond said, knowing that Harry was thinking he’d be getting punished in the bedroom.

Harry’s smile barely faltered as he leaned closer and pulled Draco into his arms. “If it’s any consolation...Cael was right, it’s not a Crup.”

“That is not at all reassuring, Potter,” Draco complained. “Puppies are a lot of work and, if you didn’t already notice, we have several human puppies of our own to care for.”

Harry chuckled. “I’ll help him with it. You’ll see, having a dog is great fun.”

“How the hell would you know?” Draco bristled. “If I remember correctly, you’ve never had anything other than an owl.”

Harry frowned. Even a decade later Hedwig’s death hurt; he’d still not replaced her, preferring instead to just send his Patronus...or, in cases of emergency, Kreacher was always available. And for his Muggle friends—he’d gained a few while working for the Met—snail mail and his mobile worked just fine.

“Every boy should have a dog, Draco,” he rationalized. “It’s...a rite of passage.”

“And so we’re going to eventually have five dogs running around here?”

Harry scratched his head. “Hmm. Maybe I didn’t think that one through.”

“You think?”

“And what about the girls? No dogs for them? Cats maybe?” Draco asked. “I’m not overly fond of felines, Potter...and they make me sneeze.”

“Noted.”

“You didn’t buy me a cat, did you?” the blond asked suspiciously.

“No, but I considered it.”

Draco rolled his eyes. “Why would you think I’d want a cat?”

Harry shrugged. “I don’t know. They’re sort of snooty and so are you.”

“I am not snooty!”

Snorting, Harry said, “Yes. You are. And again with the arguing with me over things you’re supposedly not...but so completely are.”

Draco then teasingly—childishly—stuck out his tongue.

“Ooo, I love it when you do that,” Harry whispered as he quickly leaned forward and took the extended muscle into his mouth. “Besides, you’re a novelist...isn’t every writer supposed to have a cat hanging around, for like...a muse or something?”

“Where do you hear these things, Potter?”

Harry shrugged. “I do have a special gift for you though, love,” he whispered, then nibbled on the blond’s ear.

“Were you not listening when I said you’re not getting any, Potter?” Draco asked—as his eyes drooped closed. “You’re not,” he reiterated.

“I heard you and...this isn’t about that,” said Harry, giving the blond a few more biting kisses, then backing off. “Why don’t you take these three into the lounge and I’ll call you down when breakfast is ready.”

“Hmm. As much as I’d like that, I think we’ll stay and I’ll help you.”

Harry shrugged. “Suit yourself, but...maybe you could go back up and gather the rest of our brood.”

Draco rolled his eyes. “More dirty nappies for me,” he complained. “Yay.”

Harry laughed. “Are you a wizard or what, Draco? Just magick that shite gone,” he said, laughing at his choice of words.

Draco frowned. “Sometimes I forget that I can use magic again,” he said quietly.

Harry nodded his understanding. The blond hadn’t really been able to be around any sort magic—including his own—for a very long time and had gotten used to living as a Muggle. How, Harry did not know; it must have been excruciating for someone who’d grown up surrounded by it to suddenly have to live without it. He couldn’t even imagine it and he’d grown up without it.

“But you can,” the dark-haired man whispered back. “Enjoy it.”

Smiling, Draco nodded.

Leaning in, Harry gave Draco a final kiss, then swatted the blond’s behind and turned toward the cooker to get to work.

~ o ~

After opening presents, the Malfoy-Potter clan sat at their dining room table and ate the hearty Christmas morning breakfast that Harry had cooked for them, then went back upstairs to the lounge to watch a holiday movie. Well, the two men were going to watch the movie while the children played with their new toys. Most of the children anyway—clutching her new baby doll, twenty-month-old Aria had fallen asleep on the sofa next to Harry and their one-year-old twins, who had been staring up at the fairy lights on the tree, were now dozing on the floor under it, Lyra hugging her “baby dowwy” and Sirius holding his twin sister.

“Look at them,” Draco said with a smile. “Fought sleep as long as they could.”

Nodding, Harry covered his mouth and yawned. “I love it when they totally pass out like that,” he said. “They can sleep anywhere.”

Draco snorted. “Just like their poppy,” he said, thinking about the time Harry’d passed out in a cupboard while they were playing hide-and-seek with the kids one night.

Harry blushed. “Hey, I’d worked all day and was exhausted.”

“And so ended your Muggle career as a copper,” the blond said happily—he’d hated Harry’s ridiculously dangerous Auror-like Muggle job and was thrilled when the dark-haired man finally decided to quit working fulltime for the Met and stay home with him and the children.

“Hmm. Sure did,” Harry agreed. He’d been more than happy to quit his full time job and stay home. The only reason he’d worked so much to begin with was because he was bored out of his bloody mind and lonely as fuck. But, he certainly wasn’t either of those things anymore. Not with a boyfriend and seven children. He was still working though—doing private investigations, which he only accepted on a case by case basis. And only non-dangerous jobs—because Draco freaked out at the mere thought of losing him.

“Sooo...you said you have a special gift for me. Come on...let’s have it.”

Harry grinned. He’d been wondering how long it would be before the blond asked. He’d only given him until half eight, but Draco had lasted an extra fifteen minutes. He was impressed.

“All right,” Harry said. “Close your eyes.”

After rolling his eyes, Draco pursed his lips and complied.

Waving a hand in front of Draco’s closed lids—to see if he was peeking—Harry moved his hand to the left pocket of his loungewear pants and dug around, then pulled out a small box.

“Hurry up, Harry...this is painful.”

“Okay,” he said as he held the box in the flat of his hand, “you can open up now.”

Draco’s eyes snapped open and immediately focused on the small box in front of him—which Harry gently opened, exposing a ring.

“Draco, you know I’m going to bollocks this up, so I’m just going to ask. Will you marry me?”

Draco grinned and, without a moment’s hesitation, nodded, then slowly reached for the ring. It was a relatively plain wedding band, with a soft round curve and a satin finish, and made of platinum and white gold, the two different metal colors intertwined and penetrating through the depth of the ring design and visible through and through. It was lovely.

“Do you like it?” Harry asked after nervously watching the blond inspect the ring.

Draco nodded again. “I love it, Harry,” he said, then held it out to the other man. “Put it on me.”

Grinning, Harry sat up straighter and took Draco’s hand, then slipped the ring on and smiled. “It looks good. I wasn’t sure if it would. I was worried it was too...plain for you.”

Draco shook his head. “No. It’s perfect,” he said. He was holding his hand up and looking at the beautiful ring that looked so right on his hand—and smiling. “You know, I was planning on doing the same thing, but you stole my thunder.”

Harry frowned. “Oh. I’m sorry.”

Draco shook his head. “No. It’s fine. I was...stalling,” he admitted, embarrassed. “Merlin, I hate admitting that I was scared, but I was. And now I don’t have to be, because you saved me, once again.”

Harry grinned. “That’s my job.”

“And sooo,” Draco said, leaning slightly away from Harry and digging into a crevice of the sofa, then quickly returning with another small box, “this is for you.”

Draco let Harry take the box and open it, then he reached out and plucked the ring from said box and smiled. “I know you already asked and I said yes, but...I need to ask too. Harry James Potter, will you do me the honor of becoming my bonded husband?”

Nodding, Harry let Draco slide the ring over his finger. His ring, also made of platinum featured a textured center and polished edges, creating a beautiful contrast, but it wasn’t quite as delicate-looking as the ring he’d given the blond.

“It looks like me,” he said.

Draco released his breath. “You like it then,” he said, relieved.

“I do...very much.”

“Good. I wasn’t sure. I was going to commission a jeweler to create something, then have it stamped with the Malfoy family crest, but then I found this and imagined it on you. I thought it was right, but I’ve been second-guessing my decision ever since I picked it out.”

“Well, stop that,” Harry said. “This is great! And, we could still have it stamped on the inside. We could do both rings.”

Draco shook his head. “Only if we have a crest made for the Potter family and put them inside together, side by side.”

Harry grinned. “That’s actually a great idea, Draco. I’ll have to hunt around in my vault first though...might already have one.”

The blond frowned. “How can you not know?”

“Because there’s a lot of shite in there and I’ve never bothered to inventory it all. Plus, I have Sirius’ vault too. And his house. There’s so much crap in there, you have no idea.”

“Oh right. I forgot that Sirius Black was your godfather,” Draco said, shuddering a little as he remembered the stories he’d heard during their third year—and then later when the man was murdered.

“And your mother’s cousin.”

“Wait. You own that grim old place that my mother’s cousins grew up in?”

Harry nodded and chuckled to himself at what Draco had called the Grimmauld Place. “Didn’t I mention that?”

“Obviously not, Potter, or I wouldn’t be asking.”

“Right. Well, now I have.”

“Is that where you were living before moving in here?” Draco asked, wondering why he’d never asked these questions before.

Harry shook his head. “Naw, it’s disgusting in there and...much too large for just me. I would have been rattling around in there. And it’s creepy. There’s the viciously mean and loud portrait of Walburga Black permanently stuck to the wall in the entrance hall...and...a row of shrunken house-elf heads mounted on plaques on the wall in the first floor stairwell. And countless other things. Nope, didn’t live there.”

“Big though, huh? Maybe we should consider gutting it out and moving there.”

“Well, I’ll show it to you, if you want, but it’s a dump,” Harry said.

“Fine,” Draco said—then the Floo flared.

“Draco, darling, can I come through?” Narcissa Malfoy asked.

“Of course, Mother,” the blond said as he and Harry got to their feet.

Coming through, the older blonde woman went to her son and hugged him, then hugged Harry too—then glanced around at the Christmas morning mess. “Happy Christmas, dears,” she said to her grandchildren—and was immediately engulfed by the small arms of four of her son’s children.

After lots of hugs and kisses, the boys went back to their playing and Narcissa settled onto the settee across from the one Draco and Harry had been sitting on.

“Would you like some tea, Narcissa?” Harry offered.

“Oh, yes, dear,” the woman said. “Thank you.”

Smiling, Harry headed to the kitchen and Narcissa looked at her son.

“You look happy, darling. Are you having a good morning?”

“Oh yes,” Draco said, then held up his hand to show his mother the ring Harry had just given him.

Her eyes widening, Narcissa leaned forward to inspect her son’s ring. It’s wasn’t nearly as ornate as most of the pure-blood engagement rings she’d seen, but it definitely suited her son’s delicate hands.

“It’s lovely, darling,” she said—then frowned.

“What’s wrong, Mother?” asked Draco. “Don’t you like it?”

“Oh, the ring is quite exquisite, darling. It’s just...won’t you and Harry change your minds about today, dear...and come to the manor for dinner?”

Draco shook his head. “I’m sorry, Mother, but we’re expected over at the Burrow. I promised.”

The woman’s nose scrunched up, causing her face to look like someone had shoved something smelly under her nose. “But, Draco, that will leave us alone.”

Sighing, Draco reached up and rubbed the side of his face. He hated the guilt. It was so hard to resist and he knew she’d waited for Harry to be out of the room to trip him up with it—and he didn’t appreciate it at all. Looking back at her, he shook his head. “Mother. I’ve made a commitment and I’m not going to back out. Harry and the children and I are available tomorrow, for Boxing Day, but not today,” Draco said firmly, “as I told you last month...and three weeks ago...and last week...and yesterday.”

Pursing her lips, his mother looked about to argue—and so Draco continued.

“And, if you remember correctly, despite everything, the Weasleys did invite you and Father over as well...for Harry,” he added, because he knew his mother had a soft spot for his Harry.

Frowning, Narcissa’s blue eyes filling with pain. “But...that woman murdered my sister,” she whispered.

Draco sighed. It had been almost ten and half years since the war and his mother had still not let that go. “Are you serious, Mother?” he asked. “Your sister was insane.”

Narcissa blinked at her son. “I know, but...she was still my sister.”

Draco nodded. “And so is Aunt Dromeda...whose daughter was murdered by Aunt Bella, Mother. Isn’t it time to let bygones be bygones?”

The blonde woman bit her lip and blinked back tears that she refused to let fall. She spent time with her living sister, but they never discussed the war or their losses.

“Besides, the sister that you still have will be there as well...at the Burrow.”

Narcissa’s nose wrinkled up again. “I’ve heard the place is atrocious,” she said.

Draco rolled his eyes. “Yes, from me...years ago when I was jealous that Harry was friends with Ronald Weasley when he’d refused my hand, but...I haven’t actually been there.”

“I’m still not sure how that happened...you and Harry not getting on,” the woman said with a snort.

“I was a little shite, Mother. I’ve faced that fact,” said Draco. “But we’ve all grown up and, for Harry, have put it all in the past. Couldn’t you do it too? For me?”

“I don’t know, Draco,” she said. “I’m not sure I can and I don’t see your father socializing with Weasleys.”

Draco laughed. “Frankly Mother, I don’t either, but...they’re Harry’s family, so they’re now mine as well. It doesn’t do well to squabble with one’s in-laws.”

“This is true,” the woman said to her son. “And your Harry has been very good about your father’s persnicketiness.”

The blond man snorted. “That’s a nice way of putting it.”

Narcissa waved her hand dismissively. “I was trying to be diplomatic, darling. I am well aware that your father is downright discourteous when it comes to Harry.”

“That’s still putting it mildly,” Draco complained.

“I know, but...at least your father is acknowledging the children now.”

Draco nodded. “That’s something, I guess.”

“He loves you, darling. He’ll come around.”

“Well, I won’t be holding my breath,” Draco said with another snort—then smiled as Harry walked back into the room.

~ o ~

Standing in the family lounge in front of the Floo, Draco fussed with Harry’s collar, then knelt down to do the same to Caelum’s, then glanced at the other children before going over to the mirror to check himself again.

“What are you doing, Dad?” asked his oldest son, his gray eyes going to Harry curiously.

His hand on Caelum’s shoulder, Harry gave the boy a look that pretty much said, let me handle this, then crossed the room to Draco and physically turned him around. “Draco, the Weasleys all know us and they’re not going to give a rat’s arse whether we’re neat and orderly or come in arse over elbow.”

Draco cracked a smile at the image Harry’s words caused, but said, “I care.”

“I know you do, love, but...just remember that if we’re too spiffy we’ll be completely out of place over there.”

“Right,” Draco said—but then went back to straightening his tie.

Rolling his eyes, Harry reached out and loosened the blond’s tie, then quickly pulled it off.

“Hey!” Draco wailed. “I want to wear that.”

Harry shook his head. “You’re not wearing a tie. You’d be the only one and you’d look ridiculous...then you’d blame me for letting you overdress. Plus, there might be Quidditch.” Grabbing Draco’s coat, Harry held it up. “Come on, let’s get moving.”

Sighing, Draco let Harry help him put his coat on, then turned toward the Floo. “So, how do we do this?”

“I’ll go through, then I’ll signal and you can hand the kids through.”

Draco nodded. “Right,” he said. He hated traveling by Floo; it was so dirty! “Are you sure I’m safe there?”

Smiling, Harry leaned in and kissed his boyfriend. “Yes, dear. I’m absolutely certain that my family won’t do anything to your pretty little head.”

Draco kissed back, but wished he’d not promised Harry he’d go to the Weasley’s house for Christmas. Right now he’d be much more comfortable at Malfoy Manor with his own parents—difficult as his father was sometimes.

Taking up Draco’s newly ringed hand, Harry gave it a kiss, then tugged the blond to the Floo. “Give me a minute. I’m likely to be accosted the moment I get there.”

Draco nodded.

“In fact,” he said, picking up Sirius and Lyra, “I’ll take these two with me as distractions for whoever is waiting.”

Draco nodded again, then watched Harry disappear into the Floo.

~ o ~

“Oh, ‘Arry!” Harry heard as soon as he stepped through into the Weasley’s kitchen. “Give Tante Fleur ze babies,” she said, rushing him.

Harry laughed and handed the woman Lyra, then felt Sirius being lifted from his arms by someone else. It was Andromeda and he smiled gratefully at her.

“Merlin, with that black hair, he looks more and more like his namesake every time I see him,” the woman said. “Except for the green eyes. He has your eyes, Harry.”

“That he does,” the green-eyed man agreed. “Give me a minute though...to get the others and Draco through before Draco chickens out and refuses to come.”

“Hmph! ’E’d fit right in ’ere, with all ze chickens in ze back,” Fleur said with a grin, her accent not really much better than it used to be even though she’d been living in England for a decade now. There’d been a time when she didn’t feel quite at home at the Burrow—Molly had objected to her son’s choice in a wife—but those days were long gone.

Harry laughed again, then said, “Be right back.”

Turning, he stuffed the upper half of his body through the Floo and quickly came back with two more children; Scorpius and Aria. Caelum came through next, holding Orion’s hand, then Draco and Corvus followed more shyly.

Finally, they were all there.

“Harry!” Hermione said, coming into the kitchen and throwing her arms around her long-time friend, then doing the same to the clearly uncomfortable blond—whether he liked it or not. “Draco. I’m so glad you’re all here. Happy Christmas.”

“Happy Christmas,” Draco returned somewhat stiffly, then glanced around the kitchen. In the time he’d been dating Harry, they’d never come here together before—mostly because there were so many of them and traveling wasn’t easy—but it was pretty much how he’d imagined it to be; small and cluttered and cramped.

But it was homey and lived-in too—Draco could easily concede to that—and he could immediately see why Harry loved it so much.

“Caelum!” came Teddy’s scream from the other room. “Get. In. HERE!”

Grinning, Caelum looked up at his dads. “Can I?”

Without checking with Draco, Harry nodded. “Sure buddy. Have fun,” he encouraged while watching their three oldest run out of the room.

Frowning, Draco moved closer to Harry. “It’s...pretty chaotic in here,” he whispered, his eyes going around the room—and noticing that not one of his children were in the room anymore.

“It’s fine, love...don’t worry,” Harry tried to reassure the man clinging to him.

And then things got more crazy—the backdoor banged open and a host of boisterous men entered; five red-heads he knew and a brunet man Draco didn’t recognize.

“Where’s mum?” Bill asked his wife as he pulled his hair back into a ponytail, as they all came in laughing and carrying on.

“Molly ees in ze sitting room with ze ladies, Bill. But vere are your manners, ’usband?” the blonde woman chided, giving the man a firm slap on the chest. “Can’t you see zat ’Arry’s family is ’ere.”

Wincing, Bill noticed the presence of the Malfoy-Potter family—apparently at the same time as the rest of those who’d just entered—and gave a wave hello.

“Harry! Mate!” Ron bellowed. “So glad you guys finally made it.”

“Yeah, just in time to not have to help put up the tent out back,” grumbled George—but he was teasing, of course. “How’s it hanging, Harry?” the red-haired man asked after giving Harry’s hand a firm shake.

“Nice!” came the voice of a very pregnant Angelina from the doorway. “Must you be so crude?” she asked her husband—but her husband just laughed.

“Things are good, George,” he said. “Really good.” Then he went over and hugged George’s wife. “You’re looking lovely, as always, Angelina,” he said to her.

The dark-skinned woman grinned and winked at him. “Of course,” she said confidently.

Harry just laughed.

“Why is it that you laugh when she says that, but I’d have gotten scolded if I’d said it?” Draco asked quietly—but everyone still heard him.

“Cuz you’re a git, Malfoy,” George quipped.

Draco bristled at this, but he didn’t have a chance to respond because Angelina Weasley thumped her husband on the shoulder and glared at him. “Be nice!”

“What?!” George said in his most innocent voice.

Having not said anything yet, Charlie Weasley stepped forward to greet them. “Hey Harry. Been a while, huh?” he said, shaking the dark-haired man’s hand then taking Draco’s before the blond knew what hit him. “Malfoy. I hear you’re making Harry here blissfully happy.”

Shaking the stocky man’s hand—because he wasn’t really given a choice—Draco glanced quickly at Harry, then back at the dragon-handler, giving a clipped nod. “I’m trying,” he said honestly.

“Well, that’s all we can ask, isn’t it?” Charlie said with a grin. “Anyway, I’d like you’d both to meet my partner—”

“Oi!” Ron interrupted. “Get this, Harry, Charlie’s boyfriend’s name is Chuck! Chuck and Charlie.” He sniggered.

Charlie rolled his eyes and tilted his head toward the man next to him. “This is Chuck,” he drawled. “Chuck, this is Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy.”

The man named Chuck grinned. “Hey, nice to meet you both,” he said. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

“Don’t believe everything you hear, especially from this one,” Harry said, pointing at Charlie.

Both Chuck and Charlie laughed.

“Is anyone going to offer Harry and Malfoy a drink?” Percy asked a bit snootily, once there was a break in conversation.

“Pfft! Harry knows where the liquor cabinet is, Percy,” George said with a snort. “If he or the wife wants a drink, he knows exactly where to get it.”

“True, but...thanks Perce,” Harry said politely as he took Draco’s hand to shut up the snarky remark he felt coming. “We’d love drinks. We brought our own, as well as some wine for the parents.” Harry looked at Draco and the blond opened the bag he was carrying and pulled out the bottle that was supposed to be for Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, then held the bag out to Percy.

“Great!” George burst, intercepting the bag and strutting out of the room—causing Percy to roll his eyes.

“Sorry,” Percy apologized for his brother. “If you’ll come into the sitting room, we’ll pour you two a drink. Let’s hope before George consumes it all.”

~ o ~

“Oh, for Godric’s sake, Mum! You told me to bring whomever I was dating,” Ginny bellowed. “And I did.”

Molly, hands on hips, glared at her daughter. “I said you could bring a date. A date! As in one! Not almost a third of a Quidditch team.”

Rolling her eyes, Ginny threw her hands up. “Well, I couldn’t decide, so I brought them both,” she said, not telling her mum that she’d actually culled through her boyfriends and picked her two favorites. “But I really don’t remember you specifying only one. And, if Harry can bring Malfoy and their seven rugrats, then you can certainly put up with two of my boyfriends.”

Lifting a bottle of Muggle beer to his mouth, George plopped down in the nearest chair and prepared to watch the show—as everyone else filtered into the room.

“Two of her boyfriends,” quipped George, holding up two fingers and winking at his sister. “Nice, sis!”

Seeing him, Ginny grinned—then seemed to realize they room had filled up. “Hi everyone! Meet Terence Higgs and Anthony Rickett...my dates! Please make them feel welcome or I’ll Crucio you within an inch of your life,” she threatened with a grin.

“GINNY!” screeched Molly—but that only caused the younger woman to roll her eyes.

“Okay, Molly, give it a rest,” Arthur said as he came in and looked around the room. “And we’re not finished in the back, boys. The lot of you can come out and help me with a warming charm while the ladies handle the house.”

“Pfft!” Ginny burst, still in a snit over her mum’s old-fashionedness. “I don’t have any kids in here and I don’t cook, so I’ll help out back. Come on, boys.” And with that, she and her boyfriends headed out back.

Ginny’s brothers laughed—except for Percy—and most everyone followed the tenacious young woman.

“Oh, that girl!” Molly growled as the back door snapped shut. Then, noticing Harry still in the house, she glared at him. “I thought you were going to tame her, Harry Potter!”

“Sorry, Molly, but this one is about all I can handle,” Harry joked as he grabbed Draco’s hand again.

Draco tried—and failed—to pull his hand away, then gave Harry the evil eye, because he hated it when his dark-haired boyfriend made it seem like he was high maintenance—even though he knew that he often was. “You little shite,” he hissed under his breath as he smiled at Molly Weasley.

Molly sighed, then smiled and came forward to hug both Harry and Draco. “So glad we’re all here now,” she said. Then she frowned. “Or...are we still waiting on your parents, dear?” she asked Draco.

Shaking his head, Draco said, “No, I’m afraid they’re not going to be able to make it this time, Mrs. Weasley.”

“Molly,” the plump woman instantly reminded him. “And that’s too bad...though I’m not surprised.”

Draco wasn’t either and so he said nothing about it. Instead, he held out the bottle of wine he and Harry had brought. “This is for you and Arthur, Molly...from our vineyard in France. If you like it, I’ll make sure you have as much as you want.”

Molly accepted the proffered bottle and looked at its label, then grinned up at the blond man. “Thank you so much, Draco dear,” she said. “I’m sure we’ll love it. Now, you two should go outside with the rest. I’m sure they’re not working too hard out there. Probably not at all.”

“Thank you, Molly, but...the children,” Draco objected, not quite sure what he should do.

“Oh posh!” she said, waving her hand to dismiss his concern. “What’s seven more children when there are already eleven in here...and plenty of women to care for them? Go on...get out and enjoy some adult time.”

Draco glanced at Harry and frowned, but Harry just smiled. “Thank you, Molly,” he said as he pulled Draco toward the back door.

~ o ~

And Molly had been right, the men—plus Ginny now—were just hanging out in the back.

But not really only the men. Molly’s aunt Muriel was sitting out there too, talking the ear off some young woman that Harry felt like he should recognize, but wasn’t quite sure who she was.

Leaning into Harry, Draco whispered, “Her name’s Mafalda. Complete gossipmonger and know-it-all.”

“How do you know?”

“She was in Slytherin. A few years under us. Very smart, but always boasting. Annoying chit. And an eavesdropper too,” Draco explained. “I remember Pansy once grabbing her by the hair and dragging her out of the Slytherin Common Room. Said we’d not have any more problems with her. I think Pansy threatened to expose that she was the daughter of a Squib and a Muggle.”

Harry frowned. “That’s...a bit harsh, isn’t it?” he said, still not much of a fan of Pansy Parkinson.

“The hell it is!” Ginny said, coming up behind the gossiping pair. “Sorry to eavesdrop, but I can’t stand Mafalda. I have no idea why mum invited her and her snot-nosed husband. Ravenclaw. Thank Merlin they don’t have any children.”

“Yet,” Ron said, suddenly appearing beside them with George.

“Come on, Gin, be nice,” scolded George.

“Pfft! You didn’t have to share your room with her when she’d visit, George. She’s horrible,” Ginny complained.

“Well then, she’ll fit right in with our lovely aunt, won’t she?” George teased.

They all looked over there and watched the younger witch conversing with their great aunt, Muriel, the old bat. You could just tell they were talking smack about others.

“Do you suppose another Dung-bomb under her chair at dinner is in order?” George asked.

Ginny snickered, but Ron said, “Don’t you dare, George...mum’ll have a fit.”

George sighed. “All right then. How about Mafada’s chair?” he asked hopefully.

“Now that I’d like to see,” Ginny said, “but...probably not a good idea.”

“Don’t you remember her, Harry?” Ron asked. “Mafalda, I mean. She tried several times to bring us Death Eater gossip from Slytherin, but we never believed her.”

Harry frowned—as did Draco—and shook his head. “No. Sorry.”

“And so...why’s she here?” Draco asked.

Ron pulled a face. “Didn’t you know, she’s a cousin? Like...third cousin or something on mum’s side.”

“And that guy with them?” Harry asked, eyeing the man sitting with the two women.

“That’s Mafalda’s husband, Eddie Carmichael. He’s the one that Hermione caught trying to sell that Baruffio's Brain Elixir to younger students. Remember, he tried to sell us some...in fifth or sixth year?”

Harry nodded. “Oh right,” he said, only vaguely recollecting the incident.

“Anyway, as I recall, Hermione confiscated the stuff and poured it down the toilet. Said it was probably illicit,” Ron continued.

“Of course she did,” Draco said, rolling his eyes. “I don’t know how you two could stand her...back then,” he added when Ron glared at him.

“I recognize that older guy,” Harry said, gesturing across the tented area to where he saw Arthur Weasley standing and chatting with three other men.

Ron nodded. “Yeah, you met him at Bill’s wedding. That’s dad’s younger brother, Arnold. Remember, he spent part of the evening thinking you were his son, because we’d disguised you under red curls...even though we were calling you cousin Barny and that’s not his son’s name.”

Harry nodded and laughed. “Oh right.”

George laughed as well. “I remember that. He’d had a few more drinks than he was aware of; Fred and I spiked his punch early on, then kept refilling his champagne once he’d switched over. He was completely pissed by the time the wedding was broken up.”

“You two are...were...evil,” Draco said—then frowned and looked embarrassed.

George blinked in surprised, but saw how uncomfortable the blond looked. For a second, he considered capitalizing on the other man’s discomfiture—he would have in the old days—then decided against it. He told himself that he did it for Harry, but wasn’t completely sure that was true. “Yeah,” he finally said, then sighed.

“Who’re the other two?” Harry asked, to fill the void.

“Dad’s other brother, Arliss, and my cousin, Rusty. Rusty is Arnold’s son,” Ron explained. “Rusty wasn’t at the wedding, because his wife was having a baby, but our uncle, Arliss, was there with his wife and sons; they have three of them. I think his wife, my Aunt Elizete, must be inside with mum. Their sons aren’t here today though.”

Draco snorted. “Rusty?”

“Think his name is funny, do you?” Ron asked, looking affronted.

The blond shrugged. “Actually, it quite fits. Red hair and all.”

“Yes, well...you have a redheaded kid now yourself, Malfoy, so...you might want to shut it,” said Ron—and Harry wasn’t at all sure his friend was teasing.

“Hey,” Harry cut in, looking at his friend. “Guess my son’s middle name.”

Draco’s eyes widened and he shook his head. “No, Harry, it’s all—”

“Which one?” Ron asked with an eye roll and a snicker. “I mean, you two do have a Quidditch team’s worth of kids now.”

“Oh, because you’re one to talk, coming from a family the same size,” Harry teased back. “But I was talking about our older twins. I don’t think you’ve ever asked.”

“Er...I think you’re right,” Ron agreed. “All right then, what is it?”

Harry looked at Draco—who looked like he wanted to vanish—and grabbed his hand and squeezed. “It’s Alfred,” he said. “For Albus Dumbledore and...Fred. Corvus Alfred Malfoy-Potter.”

George gasped. “My Fred?” he asked, his voice low and full of surprise.

Draco nodded. “Yes. I hope...that’s all right.”

Frowning, George just stood there for a moment—then he blinked and walked away.

“Nice, Potter! Thanks a lot,” Draco growled. “They’re finally accepting me and you have to go and blow it.”

“I’m sorry, Draco...I didn’t think. I just...I’m sorry,” mumbled Harry, feeling horrible.

“No,” Ginny cut in. “I never thought I’d say this, Malfoy, but...I think I rather like you better now. I mean, you were a nasty little shite in school, but you’ve clearly changed.”

Draco frowned at the red-haired woman. “Um. Thank you, I think.”

“And I can’t say I’ve ever seen Harry so happy,” she continued. “That makes you okay in my book. And don’t worry about George. He’s not upset about what you did.”

“He’s not?”

Ginny shook her head. “On the contrary, you’ve moved him into silence. That’s hard to do,” she said with a grin, then leaned over and hugged the blond, then kissed his cheek. “So, thank you, Malfoy. May I call you Draco?”

His gray eyes wide, Draco shrugged. “I suppose.”

“Because, we are family, you know?” Ginny said. “Even without you being with our Harry here.”

“Right. Well, Mother never liked to discuss you riffraff,” the blond said, trying to look serious.

Ginny just snorted, gave the man another quick hug, and went off to join her boyfriends—who were getting the third degree from Bill and Charlie. “Hey! Back off!” they could hear the red-haired woman yell at her oldest brothers.

“Our Fred?” Ron asked, as soon as his sister had gone. “You named your son after our Fred? Even before Harry?”

Silently, Draco nodded—and he wasn’t sure, but he might have seen a bit of moisture in Ron Weasley’s eyes.

~ o ~

Later, after presents had been opened and everyone was outside again—sporting Molly’s homemade hats, gloves, scarves, and jumpers, among other things—the younger people were talking about putting a friendly game of Quidditch together.

But they were already arguing over teams, which did not bode well for the match being a friendly one.

“So, we have nineteen adults and only fourteen slots, so five of you can’t play,” Bill said to the assembled group of younger adults—cutting to the chase, but clearly not including himself with those who would be cut.

“Well, Angelina’s not playing, because she’s pregnant, so we only need to trim our numbers by four,” George reminded them.

“And I’m not playing,” Hermione put in from the chair in which she sat nursing her six-month-old son, Hugo. “You guys know that.”

Ron nodded. “Yeah, Hermione’s shite on a broom anyway,” he said—then glanced at his wife to make sure he wasn’t in trouble. She just shrugged; it was true, after all.

“And Percy’s out too,” George added. “He’s worthless.”

“Hey! I’m not that bad,” Percy argued.

His wife snorted. “Yes, love, you really are,” she said, agreeing with her brother-in-law, but giving her husband a loving squeeze. “But that’s all right, because I’ll be sitting out with you. Besides being shite at Quidditch, Lucy needs to be fed.”

“And I’m not playing either,” Eddie Carmichael informed the group, without giving any sort of explanation.

“That settles it then,” Bill said. “Teams?”

“Chuck can play any position,” said Charlie.

George snorted. “Yeah, I’ll just bet he can.”

Charlie just rolled his eyes and gave his brother a shove, but everyone else laughed.

“Well, we only need two Seekers, so...who’s it going to be?” Bill asked.

“Wait,” Ginny interrupted. “Let’s pick teams first.”

Ron frowned. “But then one team might end up with two Keepers and not enough Chasers...or something.”

Ginny rolled her eyes. “That would make it more interesting, but I doubt it’ll happen...we’re all pretty good and can play multiple positions.”

Charlie nodded. “Gin’s right.”

“All right. By age then?” Bill queried.

Everyone nodded.

“So, let’s see. Rusty, Charlie, Fleur, George...Malfoy, Ron, and Mafalda on one team,” Bill said as he mentally figured out ages. “And Chuck, Persephone, Terence, Anthony, Harry, Ginny, and myself on the other. Do I have that correct?”

Both Charlie and Draco frowned, because their significant others were on the opposite team. Charlie only appeared to be disappointed—probably because he knew how good Chuck was—but the look on Draco’s face was hard to read.

“I don’t think Malfoy likes it that Harry’s playing for the other team...so to speak,” George observed teasingly. “Tired of losing to Harry, are you?” he asked the blond.

Draco’s face reddened.

“Or is it that you don’t like it that Potter’s on the same team as Gin, Draco?” Terence Higgs asked, seeing his ex-Housemate’s face and thinking he knew what the problem was.

“Pfft! He’s worried about the wrong Weasley if he’s got a problem with that,” George quipped.

“GEORGE!” Charlie bellowed, causing Chuck to chuckle—which told everyone that he’d already been aware of his boyfriend’s tryst with the younger dark-haired war hero and that he didn’t have a problem with it.

Draco, on the other hand, whipped his head around to stare at Harry and crossed his arms over his chest in irritation; he’d clearly not been aware and was not at all pleased about what was revealed. Ron’s jaw dropped open and his face turned bright red; it was bad enough that he thought his best friend might have slept with his sister, but...Charlie too? And Ginny, her eyes open as wide as saucers, looked over at George questioningly, silently asking why he’d not mentioned that juicy bit of information before.

“You said no one I know,” Draco accused.

Harry shrugged. “Well, you don’t know Charlie...or didn’t when I told you that,” the dark-haired man corrected himself.

“I sort of knew of him,” the blond grumbled, thinking about their fourth year when the dragon-handler had come to Hogwarts with his dragons for the Tri-wizard Tournament.

“Oh, stop acting all devastated and innocent, blondie,” Ginny cut in, grinning from ear to ear. “I know for a fact that there’s someone here, besides Harry, that you’ve been with too, so...yeah.”

Draco’s face instantly went pink—and so did Terence’s, revealing with whom Draco’d had sex.

Harry grinned. “So he’s the seventh year.”

Looking embarrassed, the blond gave Harry the tiniest of nods, then turned and glared at Ginny. “I might just have to revoke my consent to use my given name, Weaslette,” he threatened.

Ginny just laughed. “You think that would stop me, Draco?” she asked—then to the group she said, “Are we going to play some Quidditch or what?”

“Wait!” Fleur said, holding up a hand. “Let’s make zis fair. If ze rest of us can’t ’ave our signeeficant others on our team, zen maybe we should split Geenny up from ’er boyfriends as well,” she suggested, then glanced at her sister-in-law apologetically, worried that she had stepped on toes.

But Ginny wasn’t upset at all. Shrugging, she nodded. “Yeah. Sure, that’s fair. I’ll switch places with Mafalda.”

Everyone nodded again and the two groups separated to work out who would play which position.

~ o ~

“Well, we have two who were Beaters at Hogwarts, so...what do you two say?” Bill asked, his eyes going to his sister’s boyfriend, Anthony, and then his distant cousin.

Mafalda shrugged. “Works for me,” she said—and Anthony nodded.

“Great,” Bill said, glad his annoying cousin didn’t argue. “So, Harry, heard you’re a decent Beater, but seeing as we already have two of those, we’ll just put you in the position you’re used to...Seeker. That all right?”

“Fine,” he said, but cast a glance over at Charlie...knowing full well that Charlie was a brilliant Seeker, making him more than a challenge to beat.

“Chuck, since Charlie said you can play any position, do you have a favorite between what’s left?” Bill asked next.

The brunet shrugged. “It doesn’t really matter, Bill...wherever I’m needed. I’m fairly proficient at them all; my sister, Ariel, is on the American National Quidditch Team, so I trained quite a bit with her.”

“Excellent!” Bill said with a smile. “So...Persephone...Rusty mentioned that you played in Greece.”

The black-haired woman nodded. “Yes, I played a similar game. We had five hoops to score through though. I think I could easily defend just three,” she said. She cast a glance at her husband, wondering what position he’d take for the other team, then looked back at Bill Weasley and smiled.

“All right then. Terence. I believe I heard you were a Chaser for Slytherin,” Bill said next, his eyes going to the other of Ginny’s boyfriends.

“No actually,” Harry interrupted, “Higgs was a Seeker before Draco joined their team.”

“Oh. Sorry,” said the eldest Weasley sibling. “Um. Hmm.”

Terence shrugged. “It’s fine. Potter’s better than I ever was...I’m fine wherever.”

Harry frowned. “Are you sure? Because...I don’t mind.”

“Afraid to go up against Charlie, are you?” the ex-Slytherin half-taunted.

“Well, it makes me a bit nervous,” Harry admitted, “but...I’m not afraid or anything.”

“Good boy!” Bill said as he gave Harry a friendly slap on the back. “So, Harry is Seeker, and that leaves Terence, Chuck, and me as Chasers. Yeah?”

Everyone nodded. “Sounds about right.”

~ o ~

Just a short distance from Bill’s team, Rusty Weasley was organizing his team. “So, I hear Ron’s a fairly decent Keeper, yeah?”

Ron blushed, but George and Ginny shrugged and nodded. “He’ll do,” she said.

“You up to it, cousin?” the older man asked the younger one.

“You bet,” said Ron, looking pretty confident.

“Great! All right, so...we know who’s Seeker,” Rusty said, looking at his cousin Charlie—and completely disregarding that Draco Malfoy had once been a Seeker as well and causing the blond to clench his jaw.

Seeing this, Charlie spoke up. “There’s Malfoy too,” he said. “I was told he’s pretty great.”

Ron snorted. “One guess who told you that,” he teased.

Draco’s eyes narrowed. “I’ll have you know that—”

“Hush up, Draco,” Ginny cut in. “When are you going to learn that Ron just likes riling you up?”

Draco frowned, then closed his mouth on the matter.

But he wasn’t the only one frowning. Rusty was to. He hadn’t known Draco Malfoy prior to this day, but most of what he’d heard about the man wasn’t good. Frankly, he didn’t even like that the blond was here...after what he and his family had done during the war. Rusty had lost his mother in the first war and was old enough at the time that he remembered her and the loss. And he’d lost friends in the second war. No, he was not a fan of the Malfoys. However, he would defer to those who seemed to have reason to trust the blond—Draco Malfoy was, after all, the boyfriend of Harry Potter. And so he shrugged to show that he would not argue.

But Draco did.

“No, if we want to win, then Charlie’s the better choice,” Draco put in. “Besides, as many of us know, I’ve always had hard time playing against Potter.”

George snickered. “Kicked your arse at Hogwarts, he did.”

Draco glared. “I wouldn’t go that far, Weasley!” he snapped.

Ginny laughed. “Well, at least we now know that all the shenanigans between you two at Hogwarts was just a bunch of foreplay.”

Draco looked affronted. “It was not!” he argued.

Ron rolled his eyes. “Could we just get on with this?”

Rusty nodded. “Right. Charlie’s Seeker. Ron’s Keeper. I’m assuming George is a Beater, so we need another Beater and three Chasers.”

“I’m fairly decent with ze broom, Rusty, but...I don’t theenk I’d make a very good Beater,” said Fleur, shaking her head.

“Chaser then?” Rusty asked, making the silver-blonde woman smile and nod. “We still need another Beater. I’ll do it if neither of you two want to, but...I’m really more of a Chaser.”

Draco glanced at Ginny Weasley. “I’d rather be Chaser.”

Ginny shrugged. “I’ll join George...we’re an excellent pair.”

George grinned at his sister, then draped an arm over her shoulder.

“All right then, we’re set,” Rusty said with a nod.

~ o ~

Approximately an hour and a half later—soaked through and through with sweat and rain—the group headed back to the Burrow from their match. They’d all played hard, but with little result.

At least not with the result that either team had hoped for; it had ended in a tie.

“I cannot believe you caught the Snitch right after they scored that last goal, Charlie,” Ron bitched, pushing his sopping hair out of his face. “We had them!”

“Hey, in this weather it’s not like I could tell what the score was,” Charlie said in defense of himself—and, as if Mother Nature were listening, the rain that had been falling steadily began to fade just a little bit. “And, if you remember correctly,” Charlie went on, “I had Harry here all over my arse.”

Ron snorted. “That’s nothing new, apparently,” he said, not so under his breath—causing Draco to frown.

“Well, Ickle Ronniekins, if you’d have not let twenty goals through, we’d have won,” George grumped, but half teasingly—then turned and glared at their older brother. “Which, by the way, I blame you for. The loss, I mean. You didn’t bother to mention that Chuckie Boy here is a bloody professional,” he said, gesturing at Charlie’s boyfriend.

“He’s not,” Charlie argued. “His sister is.”

“Yeah, but he’s clearly just as good,” Ginny huffed as she was joined by her boyfriends, Anthony pushing a wet strand of hair off her cheek and kissing her, then taking her broom to hold for her, then slipping his arm around her waist, while Terence grabbed her free hand and squeezed.

“Hiya, beautiful,” the ex-Slytherin said to her as he planted a kiss on her forehead.

“Oi!” Ron bellowed. “You three...stop that and behave. Older brothers here. Four of us!”

Ginny responded by first glaring at her brother, then turning to face Terence to give him a big wet kiss.

“Oh Merlin, my eyes!” Ron roared, then looked at his brothers. “Are you guys going to just let her get away with this?”

Bill shrugged, but George added his two Knuts. “She’s twenty-seven, Ron...our sister can do anything she wants. Just like the rest of us.”

This caused Charlie to laugh and throw an arm over Chuck’s shoulder and pull him close. “Nice match, love,” he said, ignoring his youngest brother’s annoyed glare. “You didn’t share the Quaffle with everyone else though. That wasn’t very nice,” he scolded his boyfriend.

“You know I’m not very good at sharing, Charlie,” the brunet said, sort of pouting. Then, looking over at his boyfriend’s sister when he heard her giggle—she was now hanging over Terence’s shoulder, her long wet red hair swinging back and forth—he grinned and nodded. “Unlike your sister’s boyfriends apparently.”

“And you,” Ron said, turning from those who were goofing off and toward Rusty and continuing his rant. “You didn’t mention that your wife is probably the best Keeper on the planet.”

Rusty grinned, then leaned in and kissed said wife, but it was she who spoke. “Ahh, sorry Ron,” she said, giving him a hug too. “Maybe next time I’ll be on your team.”

“Damn straight you will!” Ron snapped.

“Eet was a tie zough,” Fleur said. “Zat’s sort of nice. No one weens, but no one loses either.”

“Right,” Bill agreed as he joined his wife and confiscated her broom.

Rolling his eyes, Ron stomped away, grumbling as he went.

“I think you’ve upset Ickle Ronniekins,” George joked, then ran after his brother—presumably to smooth things over.

“I still theenk eet was a good match,” Fleur repeated. “What do you theenk, ’Arry?”

Harry’d been walking quietly, smiling at the banter between siblings and holding Draco’s hand—somewhat possessively, because he knew his blond boyfriend was feeling a bit uncomfortable. Fiancé, he reminded himself.

“Um. Yeah, it was a great match,” Harry agreed, then raised Draco’s hand to his lips and kissed it reassuringly.

“Hey! Is that...a ring?” Ginny burst, instantly struggling herself off Terence’s shoulder, then grabbing Draco’s hand. “It is a ring! Is this an engagement ring? When did you two get engaged? And why didn’t you tell us?”

Laughing, Harry glanced at Draco, then back at the group. “Just wanted to see how observant everyone was. I was betting on Hermione noticing first, but...she’s been busy with the baby. But yes, we’re engaged,” he said, holding up his own hand to show off his own ring.

At this Ginny squealed—in a very un-Ginny-like manner—then reached out and hugged them both. Harry, of course, smiled and hugged her back enthusiastically, but Draco was more stiff and reserved about the contact, causing Ginny to pull back and half-glare at him.

“You know, you’re really going to have to get used to this if you’re going to be part of the family, Malfoy,” she said, “because...we’re touchy-feely people.”

Draco snorted. “Well, I’m not,” he protested.

“So. When did this happen?” Ginny asked again, ignoring the blond’s words.

Both Harry and Draco grinned. “This morning,” they said in unison.

“And when’s the wedding?” she asked.

“No wedding,” Draco said with a quite shake of his head. “I loathe all that nonsense.”

Harry nodded. “Yeah. What Draco said. Plus, Narcissa gave her approval for us to do it privately, so...we’ll probably just go off somewhere and get married.”

“Bonded,” Draco corrected.

Harry nodded. “Right. Bonded. Sometime soon?” he said, turning to look at his fiancé for confirmation.

“Yes. Definitely soon,” the blond agreed—then frowned. “But wait. She did? I mean, when were you discussing this with Mother?”

“At the twin’s birthday party. She wanted to know if we were ever going to bond and I told her I didn’t know that we could marry...er...bond. Whatever. Many places in Muggle society marriage between same-sex couples isn’t allowed, so I didn’t know,” Harry explained when several people looked confused.

“Zat ees completely unfair,” Fleur put in, shaking her head of silvery hair and frowning. “I sometimes wonder about zese Muggles. Zey are so backwards.”

Several nodded.

“It’s not just Muggles. My mother isn’t exactly pleased about it either,” Chuck said. “Says I’m preventing her from having grandchildren.”

“Zat is rideeculous!” Fleur burst. “Look at ze number of children zat ’Arry and Draco ’ave. Doesn’t she know zat wizards do not need a witch to ’ave babies?”

Chuck nodded. “Well yes, but it’s not as easy for most wizards as it’s been for Draco. We have some friends who have been trying for years, to no avail,” he said. “But what my mother doesn’t seem to realize or understand, no matter how many times I tell her, is that I don’t want any children. Never have.”

Charlie nodded. “Neither do I,” he said. “We’re just too busy with our jobs and, to be perfectly honest, I’m just a little too selfish. I like being able to just pick up and go do whatever it is I want to do without having children to think about.”

“Plus, our jobs are dangerous,” Chuck added. “Wouldn’t be right to bring children into a situation where they might lose one or both of their parents.”

“See Potter, it would be wrong to have continued that copper job now that you have children,” Draco said teasingly—but he meant it too.

Harry rolled his eyes—they’d been over this a number of times until he’d finally quit—then smiled and said, “Yes dear,” causing the group to laugh.

“So, when’s the next one coming, Malfoy?” Charlie Weasley asked with a smirk.

Draco’s eyes widened. “No. Uh-uh,” he said as he shook his wet head. “There will be no more children from me. If there are any more, Harry’s having them!”

Several people chucked—disbelievingly.

“No, really, he is. Right, Potter?”

Leaning in, Harry kissed the blond and nodded. “Yes, I did agree to that,” he said.

Draco sighed with relief. “Good, because I’m not doing that again...four pregnancies for six babies is quite enough, thank you very much!”

More laughing from the group.

“So...back to my mother and us bonding,” Draco prompted.

“Oh. Right. So, your mother was worried that we were going to continue on having babies without the benefit of marriage and it bothered her,” Harry went on. “Then she told me she wouldn’t even mind if we just ran off together.”

Draco’s eyes widened. “She actually said that?”

“Well, not in so many words, but yes,” the dark-haired man said with a nod.

“Well, our mum’s going to mind,” Ginny interrupted. “You know she’s going to have fit if she can’t throw you a wedding, Harry. You’re a son to her, you know.”

Harry nodded. “Yeah, I know. But—”

“And speaking of mums,” Bill cut in, then nodded over at the tent where those who’d not been playing Quidditch had remained. “I think Malfoy’s parents decided to come after all.”

Horrified, Draco turned and, sure enough, his parents were standing there under the Weasley’s heated tent—looking awkward as fuck!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay...so...I'm being nice here and posting two chapters in quick succession, so I'd like hear more from you readers. I can see that people are reading, but...not may comments. Mostly, I write for myself, but when I post...that's for you guys. Well, and because I want to know what you think. So...what DO you think? Please give me something to go on here...PLEASE COMMENT...or I might just let this fizzle out. *sigh*


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised (to someone)...a new chapter on my day off...
> 
> * Malfoys at the Burrow  
> * shower sex  
> * trickery and drunkenness

Still Christmas  
...at the Burrow!  
25 December 2008

~ o ~

Torn between rushing over to his parents and running to hide from them, Draco just stood there, gawking at the two of them from a distance. He could see that his aunt Andromeda had joined her sister—Draco’s mother—and that Molly Weasley was trying to coax both his parents to come further into the tent and join everyone. His mother was trying very hard to appear at ease, but his father looked as if he’d been dragged there by the Dark Lord himself and was glaring at Arthur Weasley.

And then two of the Weasley wives—George and Percy’s—approached his parents, each holding one of his and Harry’s younger twins. Angelina Weasley quickly handed his mother Sirius and led her over to a place to sit down and his father found his arms full of Lyra, who promptly reached up and gave her grandfather’s long tidy hair a tug. Draco didn’t think anyone else noticed, but he did not miss the twitch of a grin that lit up his father’s face for a micro-second before he was once again looking stern and uncomfortable.

Realizing that he couldn’t avoid greeting them, Draco brushed at his wet trousers, tried to adjust the scarf Molly had given him for Christmas, and pushed at the dripping hair that clung to his face, then took a deep breath and approached, everyone following him.

“Mother. Father,” he said, stopping a short distance from his parents.

Still standing, Lyra in his arms, Lucius Malfoy looked his son up and down and grimaced disapprovingly.

“Draco, darling,” Narcissa said, getting to her feet and going to her son—but not touching him—as soon as she saw him there. “Oh my, aren’t you filthy. All of you,” she added, her eyes scanning the group, then going back to her son.

“We were playing a game of Quidditch in the orchard,” he explained, his tone flat—then bluntly asked, “What are you doing here?”

Narcissa frowned, but it was Lucius who answered. “I was under the impression that we were invited,” the man said, looking annoyed and disgusted.

“Yes, but, I was under the impression that you would not be coming today,” Draco countered.

“Your mother insisted,” his father said darkly, casting a look at his wife that wasn’t all that pleasant. “I would just as soon stay—”

“Oh darling,” Narcissa broke in, effectively cutting her husband off, “you should really go clean up. Mrs. Weasley has just gone inside to bring out afters. I’m sure you’d rather not eat looking like that.”

Draco bristled at this, but wasn’t given a chance to respond, because Harry did. “We were just going to do that, Narcissa,” he said with a smile—then to Draco he said “Come along, dear” as he took hold of and tugged on his wet scarf.

“I hate it when you do that!” Draco hissed when they were out of the garden—causing those following them to laugh.

~ o ~

After making a detour to the broom shed, to drop off their Quidditch supplies, the group headed into the house—much to Molly’s upset.

“You’re getting mud all over my clean floor!” she yelled. “Shoes off outside!”

Turning, they all went back out, removed their shoes, then reentered the house—not that that was much better since they were all drenched and dripping.

“Ahh, much better,” the plump woman said. “Strip down...all of you...and I’ll just spell everything clean and dry while you take turns in the bathrooms. Go on!” she ordered, then went back to her dessert preparations.

Draco watched for a moment as everyone started stripping down in the kitchen—even the women!—then shrugged and did the same, leaving his outer clothing on the pile with everyone else’s, but keeping his under garments on. Then, his cheeks slight pink, he followed the group down a long narrow passageway that apparently led to an uneven staircase, which wound its way, zigzagging up and into the rest of the house.

On the first floor, several split off—most, in fact. Bill and Charlie took Rusty and Chuck into a room to change, and Ginny Weasley took the three other women into a room—her bedroom, Draco supposed—so that they could clean up. But before she closed the door, she spoke.

“Harry, show Terence and Anthony to Percy’s old room, would you?”

“Sure Gin,” Harry responded as he continued up.

“And tell them where the bathroom is,” she said as she shut her door.

On the second floor, George was just coming out of his former bedroom as they arrived on the landing and shook his head when Harry moved to show Ginny’s boyfriends Percy’s room.

“They don’t want to go in there,” George said, pretending to shudder. “You two can use my room.” Then he snickered and started down the stairs.

Harry rolled his eyes. “Git that he is, I would suggest that you use Percy’s room...I’m sure you remember George’s penchant for trouble. And I’ll bet Molly’s already got your clothing cleaned and laid out on Percy’s bed,” he said, then added, “she’s quick. And there’s a bathroom on the next floor up.”

Nodding, Terence and Anthony entered Percy’s room and, sure enough, their clothing was sitting there, folded nicely, on the bed.

“Wow. She is quick,” Terence agreed.

Harry laughed, but it was Draco who commented. “With seven children, one has to be.”

Smiling, Harry took Draco’s hand and squeezed it, then continued up the rickety stairs.

“I’m surprised this place doesn’t fall over,” Draco said, his voice low, as they reached the fourth floor landing.

Squeezing Draco’s hand again—this time in a shut it sort of way—Harry said, “You’re perfectly safe, I promise you.”

“Pfft!” the blond scoffed, his eyes taking everything in; the chipping paint, the shabby wallpaper, the uneven floor that was bare of any coverings—and the strange noises that were coming from somewhere up above.

On the fifth floor Harry knocked on Ron’s door and was quickly allowed in—it was still the same violent shade of orange that it had always been even though his friend no longer lived in his parent’s home.

“You two should use mum and dad’s room,” Ron said. “There’s more room in there and a bathroom...and I don’t want you two fucking in my room.”

“You call this a room?” Draco grumbled, his nose wrinkling up—receiving an elbow from Harry that quickly shut him up.

“We wouldn’t do that, Ron,” said Harry.

Ron laughed. “Yeah. Right. Either way, your clothes aren’t in my room, so mum must have put you in the master.”

Shrugging, Harry and Draco turned and followed Ron back down to the fourth floor.

“See?” Ron said, pointing at Harry and Draco’s neatly folded clothes. “And take a shower, would you? You two are a mess!” he said to them, lightly cuffing Draco on the head as he left, closing the door behind him.

“I still don’t like him,” the blond said after the door was firmly shut.

Already removing his underpants—which instantly vanished when he dropped them on the floor—Harry chuckled. “Yes you do...you just like pretending that you don’t,” he said as he headed for the bathroom. Turning on the shower, the dark-haired man stepped in and under the spray. “You coming in or not?” he shouted.

Draco had glanced around Arthur and Molly’s bedroom, seeing nothing of interest really—except maybe the multitudes of happy family photos covering every square inch of the room—then approached the room that now had steam pouring out of it.

“I can wait for you to finish,” he said.

Frowning, Harry stuck his head out of the shower. “Just get in here,” he said. “It’ll save time and water. I’ll wash your back...and other things,” he added when the blond just looked at him blankly.

Draco rolled his eyes. “Everyone will know what we’re doing up here if we’re gone too long.”

“Then we won’t be gone too long. Come on. Strip down,” Harry ordered, sounded disturbingly like Molly Weasley.

Sighing, Draco did as Harry wanted, but frowned when his pants also vanished.

“They’ll be back before we’re even out of here,” Harry said. “A few years ago everyone chipped in and bought Molly a magical laundry chute. There’s one in every room now...as if she needs that now that all of her children are out of the house. Still, comes in handy when they have guests.”

Still frowning, because he wasn’t sure how he felt about Molly Weasley seeing and washing his undergarments, Draco moved slowly toward the shower and looked in. “It’s sort of small in there.”

Harry laughed. “It’s the size it needs to be for the size of the person...or people...who are using it,” the showering man said. “Merlin, Draco, one would think you’re unaccustomed to magic.”

Stepping in, Draco watched as the shower stall widened to accommodate him and smiled. “I am, Potter!” he said irritably. “I live in Muggle London and haven’t been around magic in years. Remember?”

Nodding, Harry picked up the soap and rolled it in his hands to produce a good amount of lather, then motioned for the blond to turn around. “Yes, I remember, but...you did grow up with magic. You had to have had all the best spells and enchantments on Malfoy Manor, right?”

“Yes. Father made sure Mother had anything and everything she wished for, but...we had servants and house-elves who tended to most things. To be honest, I never thought much about where my clothing went after I’d taken it off.”

Harry laughed. “Of course, you didn’t,” he said as he washed Draco’s back—then raked his fingernails over the pinking skin, causing the blond to shudder and groan. Rising his hands, Harry reached for the shampoo and poured a generous amount into his palm, then went about washing Draco’s hair.

“Now I’m going to smell like Mrs. Weasley,” the blond grumbled as Harry ran his fingers through Draco’s soft hair, then used the tips of his fingers to massage his scalp.

“I’ll neutralize the scent when we’re done, if you wish,” Harry promised. “Turn around and rinse.”

Draco did as he was bid. Turning and tipping his head back, he let the water pour over his head, using his hands to make sure the soap was completely out of his hair—and groaning when he felt Harry’s hands on his chest and moving lower.

“We should hurry. Turn around, I’ll do you,” Draco said as he reached for the soap—which Harry yanked out of reach.

“I already did me...while you were snooping about in Arthur and Molly’s room,” Harry teased as he physically turned Draco back toward the wall, then reached around and stroked him until he was painfully erect.

Shuddering violently, Draco tried to focus. “I wasn’t snooping,” he denied. “Just...looking at pictures. And we really should hurry—”

Harry laughed as Draco yelped. While the blond had been busy struggling to form coherent sentences, Harry’d pushed a soap-slickened finger into his arse while continuing to stroke his hard cock.

“You are completely evil,” accused the blond, his eyes rolling back into this head as he felt Harry’s finger crook and find just the right place.

Harry grinned. “What was that again?” he asked as he stroked Draco in both places until he was barely able to stand on his own.

“Evil,” the blond whispered.

“Yep,” agreed Harry, causing Draco to groan in frustration when he removed his finger and other hand and reached for his own hard member. “Bend over some,” the dark-haired man said, his unoccupied hand pressing into Draco’s back to force the issue when the blond didn’t immediately respond.

Again, Draco did as Harry wished, wedging his feet up against the sides of the shower stall and bending at the knees slightly, then leaning forward and using the wall for support.

And then he felt Harry enter him. Quick, but easy. For a moment they just stood there connected intimately, then the dark-haired man began fondling him again. One of Harry’s hands went back to stroking Draco’s aching cock while the other reached down between his spread legs and started caressing his bollocks, rolling them gently—just the way the blond liked it.

But Harry wasn’t fucking him and it was driving him mad.

“Harry. Please,” he begged.

For a few more moments, Harry ignored the blond’s pleas, because he very much liked watching the other man come undone; shaking and shivering as Harry played with him. But then he took pity on him and rocked his hips, causing Draco to moan.

“Kiss me,” Harry said after a few pushes and pulls into and out of Draco’s body.

Turning is head, Draco searched blindly—he couldn’t seem to open his eyes—for Harry’s mouth, which crashed into his. Their tongues battled for a time, then Harry pushed him up and into the shower wall, where he fucked him in earnest.

“I’m coming!” Draco cried a few thrusts later, his body quaking violently as he sprayed the shower wall with his seed.

“Me too,” moaned Harry as he too came.

~ o ~

Some time later, dressed once again in clean dry clothes, Draco and Harry came down the uneven stairs, holding hands and grinning like loons. But, upon entering the kitchen, they stopped short—when they found Ron and George Weasley sitting at their parents’ long worn wooden table, apparently waiting for them. Both looked a bit perturbed.

Ron glanced at George. “Wouldn’t do that, he told me.”

“Good thing it’s raining so hard outside, Ronniekins,” said George, “or the entire household would have gotten an earful.”

“Really, mate?” Ron asked, his eyes narrowed on Harry again.

Harry blushed. “We forgot a silencing charm,” he said flatly, then looked at Draco—who was half glaring at him.

“I will deal with you later,” the blond hissed at Harry—then he glared at Ron. “Don’t worry, Weasel, we didn’t fuck in your room.”

Ron rolled his eyes. “That’s hardly the point. Couldn’t even last a few hours without sex,” he said with a shake of his head. “You’re sick, Malfoy.”

“Sorry Ron,” Harry said, his face pink, “but...it wasn’t Draco’s fault. I...ahh...sort of pushed the issue.”

Ron rolled his eyes again—then grinned. “As if we care, mate,” he said, getting up and slapping Harry on the back in a friendly manner.

“Was hard keeping mum out of the house though, Harry,” George added. “Sent the others out to distract her.”

Harry blushed again. “Sorry.”

George shrugged. “We’ve all been there.” Then glancing at Draco, he said, “Well, not there, but...you know what I mean.”

Draco glared, but Harry chuckled. “Well, what can we do to help out your mum?” the dark-haired man asked.

“More like, what can we do to help out good old Lucius,” George said, moving to the back door to see the goings on outside.

Draco and Harry quickly went to the window to find Draco’s father surrounded by his grandchildren and looking more than uncomfortable.

“He needs a drink,” Draco decided. “Might relax him a bit.”

Harry snorted. “Better bring him the bottle.”

Draco wanted to glare over the comment, but found himself nodding instead. “Or a self-refilling glass.”

George’s eyes lit up. “Let’s get him shnockered,” he suggested—causing Draco to snort.

“I have never seen my father drunk,” the blond said.

George grinned. “Do you want to? You do, don’t you?”

“Mother would be furious,” Draco said. “I’m not sure it’s such a good idea.”

“Oh come on, Malfoy, let us have some fun,” the older Weasley said.

Rolling his eyes, Draco sighed. “Just be careful. You know my father isn’t a very nice man and I don’t want your mother’s lovely party ruined just because you two can’t control yourselves.”

George grinned. “Ronniekins, go get a bottle of wine.”

~ o ~

As soon as Draco and Harry—with George and Ron and a very large wine bottle—returned to the group outside, Lucius was glaring at them.

“Did it somehow slip your mind that we’re here, Draco? Amongst these people. For you!” the patriarch of the Malfoy family snarled once his son was close enough to hear him—without most others hearing, Draco hoped. The older man was sitting in an outdoor lawn chair, his nose in the air, all prim and proper—if that was possibly in such a setting—with three-year-old Scopius sleeping in his arms.

“No, Father, it didn’t,” Draco said, his eyes going from his sleeping son to his snooty father. “We were just...getting cleaned up.”

“Yes, I can see that,” Lucius said, his lip curling in disgust as his eyes roved over his son—and son-in-law to be. It did not escape his attention that they both looked flushed with more than just a hot shower. “Not sure why it took you two so much longer than everyone else, but I’m not pleased to have been left sitting out here alone while you dallied in that...house,” he said, his gaze going to what the Weasleys called a home, then back to his son.

“You were hardly alone, Father,” Draco countered.

Lucius snorted, but didn’t have a chance to speak.

“Wine, Mr. Malfoy?” George asked as he uncorked the bottle and poured the man a glass, then held it out—almost in Lucius’ face—until the man took it.

At about this time, Scorpius awoke and rubbed his eyes with his small fists, then grinned. “Poppy,” he said, raising his arms for Harry to pick him up—which Harry instantly did.

“Hey sweetie,” Harry said, hugging the three-year-old and placing a kiss on his tousled blond head. “Did you have a nice nap?”

Scorpius nodded. “Yes. Gran’papa keeped me warm.”

Harry smiled and glanced down at Lucius Malfoy to see his reaction—the older man had puffed up slightly, showing Harry that he did indeed care. For Scorpius, at least. But Harry still wondered what the man thought about his other six grandchildren.

“Dad! Daddy, you’re back!” Caelum said, rushing up to them with several other children in tow—Teddy included, his hair currently as light blond as the Malfoys’. “Can I stay over at Teddy’s tonight. He asked his grandma and...I really want to.”

Draco frowned. “What about your new puppy?”

Caelum’s face fell, then his eyes brightened again. “Teddy could stay with us instead,” he proposed. “We’ll be real good, I promise...and even help with the babies.”

Still frowning, Draco glanced at Harry to see what he thought.

“How about you let us discuss it and we’ll let you know before we’re ready to go home,” said Harry.

Caelum grinned, then ran off with Teddy and the others.

“As if seven children in one household isn’t enough,” Lucius said under his breath snidely.

~ o ~

About an hour later—with several glasses of wine in him—Lucius Malfoy was feeling no pain. But that’s not to say that he was being any more pleasant; he was still at the Weasleys against his will.

“How can you stand it here, Weasley?” the blond man asked Arthur, his lip curling in disgust as he waited for his glass to refill itself yet again. “I mean, I know they’ve finally begun to pay you well at the Ministry, so...why do you continue to live in this...hovel?”

“As always, we have a very different view of things, Malfoy,” Arthur said politely.

“Lucius,” Molly corrected from next to her husband, then her lips.

Arthur nodded. “Lucius,” he amended. There was a time that he would have gotten angry—a time when he’d physically responded to Lucius Malfoy’s malicious gibes—but now he knew they were no longer said with hate. Lucius still meant what he was saying, but...things were different now. And that made a huge difference.

“Clearly,” the blond man drawled, his pale eyes rolling, then scanning the assembled group as he lifted his glass and took a hefty sip, then tsked several times. “The company you keep, Weasley...and I thought—”

“You’re not really going to remark on that again, are you?” Arthur asked. “I mean, you are here, at my house, socializing with us on Christmas.”

Lucius Malfoy frowned. “Point taken,” he said, then took another sip of wine. “Though, in my defense...it’s not by choice.”

“All right, dear,” Narcissa cut in. “That’s enough.” She’d been ignoring her husband’s somewhat snide comments throughout the evening, but now, seeing as it appeared a tirade might be on its way, she felt more inclined to nip it in the bud.

But her husband glared at her. “It’s the truth, Narcissa,” the man hissed.

Raising a brow, Narcissa glanced from her husband’s face to his glass, then, realizing he was well on his way to intoxication, reached out and confiscated the glass. “I think we’ve had enough,” she said firmly as she turned the glass upside down and emptied its contents into the grass at her feet—then wandlessly cast a Finite to prevent the glass from refilling again. “Molly,” she said, handing the now empty glass to their hostess.

Molly Weasley blinked, but took the glass and hurried away with it—only to find two of her sons almost doubled over in their mirth.

“George! Ronald! I cannot believe you two. Inside. NOW!” she barked.

“I wasn’t finished, wife,” Lucius complained.

“Yes. Yes you are,” the woman said.

~ o ~

At least an hour later—possibly quite a bit more—the gathering at the Burrow was wrapping up. Lucius Malfoy had sobered up some, which had, for the most part, shut him up—much to his wife’s happiness—and Molly Weasley had managed to shame George and Ron into contrition, forcing them both to apologize to Narcissa Malfoy, if not her husband.

“So, Dads, can Teddy spend the night. Pleezzz,” Caelum begged, his palms pressed together and shoved up under his chin.

Giving each other a look, Draco and Harry smiled. “We’ve discussed it with your grandmother and have decided that it will be all right,” Draco said to the boy.

Letting out hoots of glee, both boys jumped up and down.

“But no more asking in front of people, young man,” Harry added. “That puts us on the spot and makes us want to say no.”

His eyes round, Caelum nodded.

“If it happens again, the answer is no.”

Nodding again, Caelum turned and hugged Teddy, then they both ran into the house to gather their things.

“Are you sure this is all right?” Andromeda asked the two young men. “You two already have seven in the house, do you really want one more?”

Harry shrugged. “What’s one more? Besides, Teddy’s no trouble at all and...you need a break sometimes too.”

The woman smiled. “True.”

Then, glancing over at some of the others—Arnold Weasley in particular—Harry grinned. “And, by the looks of things, you might have a guest tonight yourself,” he said cheekily.

Andromeda’s face flamed red at the comment, her eyes avoiding his for the moment.

Frowning, it seemed to take Draco a moment to figure out what was going on, then it dawned on him and he shook his head. “That was positively boorish, Potter,” he scolded.

Harry had the decency to blush, but he was still smirking.

“It’s fine, Draco dear,” Andromeda said, placing her hand on her nephew’s forearm. “I just was not expecting it from Harry. And yes,” she went on, her face still flushed as her gaze turned toward Harry, “I do believe you are right.”

“Un-believable,” Lucius hissed out, his voice barely above a whisper—but still loud enough to earn himself his wife’s elbow.

“Tomorrow then,” Narcissa said, looking at her sister, “we’ll see you and Arnold at the Manor for tea, yes?”

Andromeda nodded, then reached out and embraced the other woman; it was so nice to have her sister back in her life again. She’d lost so much, but reconnecting with Narcissa meant a lot to her...even if she had to deal with Lucius Malfoy.

“Are you ready, Andromeda?” Arnold Weasley said as he came up to them and offered the woman his arm.

“Seems so,” she responded, taking his arm, then glancing around. “Happy Christmas, everyone.”

There were a chorus of Happy Christmases from the dispersing group, then, with a loud crack, Andromeda Tonks and Arnold Weasley Apparated away.

“I cannot believe what I’ve just seen,” Lucius Malfoy grumbled. “Did your sister just leave with a Weasley?” He snorted. “Or, maybe I can believe it,” he went on. “It’s not like the woman had any taste to begin with. Married that Muggleborn and—”

“Lucius, dear,” Narcissa quickly interrupted. “Do shut up.” Then turning, she wrapped her arms around her son. “Thank you, darling. I had a lovely time. I’m glad we decided to join you.”

Lucius snorted, but they ignored him.

“I’m glad you were both here as well, Mother,” Draco said, including his father with the ‘we,’ but not particularly meaning it as far as the other man was concerned. “Christmas wouldn’t be the same without you.”

Narcissa’s blue eyes lit up and sparkled. She was pleased beyond measure to hear her son say such a thing. “Thank you, darling,” she said again, giving her son another squeeze, then looking at Harry. “And thank you too, dear. Your family is quite remarkable.”

Harry grinned. “I think so,” he said, his gaze quickly going about the gathering and everyone still there saying their goodbyes. “I know it’s been rough, but...seems we’ve come full circle, yeah?”

“Indeed we have,” Narcissa said with a nod, then folded her son’s love into her arms and hugged him. Then, backing off some, she noticed Arthur and Molly Weasley approaching. Given their pasts, she’d been quite unsure about attending, but the Weasleys had been perfectly nice—even when her own husband tried to stir things up. In fact, she’d not once thought about the fact that Molly Weasley had been responsible for the death of her other sister, Bellatrix; it was almost like it had never happened. Finally, Narcissa could let it go.

“Arthur. Molly, thank you ever so much,” Narcissa said, holding a hand out first to the man—who politely took it—and then to the red-haired woman.

But Molly just stared at it. “Oh posh!” she exclaimed. Reaching out, she hugged the blonde woman, causing Narcissa to stiffen for a moment, because she wasn’t used to such exuberance. But only for a moment—it was hard to deny Molly Weasley a hug.

“Don’t be a stranger now, you hear,” Molly ordered. “We’re family now more than ever.”

Considering the statement, Narcissa nodded. It was true. Both Arthur and Molly had ties to the Black family and...if things went the way they appeared to be going, Teddy Lupin might someday marry little Victoire Weasley—Narcissa had seen the eight-year-old girl making moon eyes over the boy two years her senior, though the boy hadn’t noticed it yet. And now Molly’s Harry and her Draco were an item. Family, she thought, such a wonderful thing.

~ o ~

“Well, that went reasonably well,” Draco said once he and Harry were home and had everyone settled into their beds.

“I’d say spectacularly well,” Harry corrected as he pulled on his pyjama pants and crawled into bed. “A few bumps, but no Malfoy/Weasley fights.”

Draco nodded—then shook his head. “I can hardly believe it went so well. Even after what your friends did to my father.”

Harry grinned as he settled himself beside the blond. “It was funny.”

Cracking the tiniest of smiles, Draco shrugged. “I’m not going to deny that,” he agreed. “But Mother wasn’t too pleased.”

Harry snorted. “Neither was Molly. I think Ron and George are going to be responsible for de-gnoming her garden come spring and summer.”

“Serves them right for causing a ruckus.”

Turning, Harry tossed an arm over Draco’s chest and snuggled into him. “Were you too uncomfortable?”

“Atrociously so.”

Harry frowned. “Really?”

“Well, that scene you caused by fucking me in the Weasley’s shower in the middle of a Christmas get-together was...awkward.”

“Pfft! Only Ron and George knew about that.”

“Highly doubtful, Potter. They’re just the ones who stayed inside and listened to us,” Draco argued.

“That’s not true. They stayed in to keep everyone else out,” Harry disagreed.

“Well yes, but...the perverts didn’t bother with putting up a silencing spell for us, so...they must have been getting off on it.”

Harry frowned. “It wasn’t that bad, was it?” he asked, now worried that Draco had been upset all day.

“You are entirely too gullible, Potter,” said the blond, rolling his eyes as he turned his head and kissed the green-eyed man next to him—then grabbed Harry’s hand and pushed it under the sheets. “Now make yourself useful. This talk of getting off makes me want to.”

Grinning, Harry wrapped his hand around Draco’s hardness and gave a few tugs, then decided to use his mouth instead. Slipping under the sheets, Harry found what he wanted—licking and sucking until Draco finally came undone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Questions...COMMENTS!!!


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * time skip (just under two months)  
> * honeymoon (St Thomas)  
> * adventures (sailing, hiking, shopping, snorkeling, massages)

Paradise Found  
Some time to themselves...  
February 2009

~ o ~

As it turned out, Draco and Harry’s bonding ceremony wasn’t as private as they’d hoped it would be. They’d not known, but quickly found out, that only the Minister for Magic was allowed to officiate bondings and so had to wait for over a month for the man to have an opening for them—which gave Narcissa Malfoy and Molly Weasley some time to convince the two young men that it wasn’t entirely fair to leave everyone out of their special day. Draco and Harry insisted though, on having only family there and so it was relatively short and sweet. On February fourteenth, two thousand nine, Draco’s parents, aunt, and cousin crowded into the Minister’s office with the massive group of Weasleys, where Draco and Harry promptly tied the knot. It was official! They were married.

Well, bonded. But what was the difference?!

And now they were off to the Caribbean for their honeymoon, leaving their gaggle of children in the care of both their families.

“Are you sure those Muggle flying contraptions are safe?” Ron Weasley asked, looking skeptical, as he walked his best mate—and Harry’s new husband—through the airport terminal.

“Shut it, Ron!” Harry hissed under his breath. “Draco’s nervous enough without you feeding his worries.”

“I am not nervous,” the blond man drawled, trying desperately to look nonchalant—but no one paid him the slightest bit of attention.

“Ronald, you know that aeroplanes are quite safe,” Hermione interjected. “Much safer than some wizarding modes of travel. Do you know how many people splinch themselves Apparating? And besides, you’re well aware that Apparation is impossible at the distance they’re going.”

“What about a Portkey?” Ron pushed. “That has got to be less faulty than those flying death traps.”

“The plane is fine, Ron,” said Harry, giving his friend a shut the bloody fuck up glare, because Draco really was quite terrified and he was trying very hard to be brave.

“You’ll remember to check on the children, right?” Draco said to Hermione. He was clearly anxious about traveling the Muggle way and about being away from his children—whom he’d never been away from for more than a few hours.

“Of course, Draco,” she responded.

“You know, Malfoy, your lack of confidence in us is...rather insulting,” Ron put in.

“Because...my aunt would have her hands full with our group for such a long time,” Draco said, ignoring Ron.

Hermione smiled and nodded. “Don’t worry...everyone will be safe and sound when you two return.”

Draco frowned. “Are you sure this is all right? Maybe we should take them with us,” he suggested, his gray eyes going to his new husband.

Harry shook his head. “We are not taking seven children with us on our honeymoon!”

“But—”

“No buts!” Harry said. “Unless it’s your butt, bare and sticking up for me to—”

“Enough!” Ron burst, slapping his hands over his ears. “I do not want to hear about what goes on in your marriage bed.

“How about if it happens with one of us thrown over the back of the sofa?” Draco taunted.

“Argh! Harry! Mate! Make him stop!” Ron demanded.

Draco smirked. “Or on the dining room table?” he continued.

Ron’s face screwed up. “Oh Merlin! I am never eating at your house again!”

Harry just laughed, but Hermione shook her head and semi-glared at the blond man. “Why do you have to tease him like that, Draco Malfoy?!”

“Malfoy-Potter,” Harry quietly corrected.

“Who’s teasing?” Draco asked. “The sofa in the ground floor lounge is quite practical for fucking and...for your information, it’s Malfoy-Potter now.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Fine. Draco Malfoy-Potter, stop tormenting my husband or you might find yourself on the receiving end of a hex or two!”

Draco grinned—then frowned as he seemed to think of something else. “We’ll check in. Daily,” he said, pulling out his mobile to verify that Hermione’s number was programmed into it—even though he knew that it was. “To check on the children and make sure everyone’s all right.”

Shaking his head, Harry grabbed Draco’s phone and handed the device to Hermione. “No. We won’t be calling. Not once!” he said to the woman, contradicting his new husband. And then to Draco he said, “This is our honeymoon. We will not be in contact with anyone but each other.”

“And what if something happens and one of the children needs us?” asked Draco.

“Then we can be reached by the hotel phone.”

“And what if we’re out?” the blond pushed.

“Patronus,” Harry said, trying very hard to keep the exasperation out of his voice. “And yes, as you know, all my friends are capable of producing them.”

Draco opened his mouth to protest further, but didn’t get the chance.

“Anyway,” Hermione went on, cutting off anything Harry’s husband might have to say, “the children will be just fine. We have activities planned for each and every day and loads of helpers. Molly, Fleur, Angelina, and I are taking them to the zoo on Saturday. Andromeda has a few slumber parties planned...with other adults there to assist. And we’re even going over to your parent’s house for tea this Thursday and next Tuesday, Draco. And, Narcissa and Lucius kindly offered to take them all for a night as well.”

“Oh. That makes me feel sooo much better,” Draco scoffed.

“Draco. Don’t worry. They’ll be fine,” Hermione promised.

“Like I said, not worried.”

Now Ron rolled his eyes. “Yeah. Right. I can tell.”

~ o ~

The flight went relatively well—if you didn’t count Draco’s white-knuckled grip on the armrests as they took off—but that was mostly because Harry snuck a Sleeping Draught into his new husband’s drink, which knocked him out until about twenty minutes before they landed at the Cyril E. King airport on St. Thomas in the Virgin Islands. He even slept through both layovers, the first almost two hours in Toronto, Canada, and the second over two hours in Miami, Florida.

“It’s...a bit ugly here,” Draco commented after they’d landed and were taxiing across the tarmac.

Harry laughed. “Airports, in general, aren’t very attractive, but...don’t worry, you’re gonna love it here.”

“Hmm.” Draco continued to look out the window, obviously unsure.

“Didn’t you see how lovely it was as we were flying in?” Harry asked, a little worried about the blond’s reaction to where he’d chosen to take him for almost two weeks. Harry’d been here once on business—well, a work retreat—and thought it was wonderful, but...maybe something more posh would have been better for Draco.

Draco nodded. “I saw. The water is very...blue.”

Harry smiled. “There’s lots of shopping here.”

“And Muggles,” Draco said, his nose wrinkled.

Harry laughed again. “I thought you were over that.”

“Well, yes, but...I’m still not used to so many of them...all at once,” he said, his eyes shifting to the people around them on the plane. “They’re very...loud.”

Reaching out, Harry took Draco’s hand and squeezed it. “We can do whatever you want...including just staying in our room the entire time. I booked you the best there is here, love,” he said, not bothering to mention the name of the hotel, because Draco wouldn’t know it anyway.

Draco tried to smile, but he was still feeling anxious. He’d been to a few places in Europe as a child—mostly in France though—but only to wizarding locations, because his parents didn’t care for Muggles. No, that’s an understatement; Lucius Malfoy loathed Muggles. But that’s beside the point. The point was that Draco hadn’t gotten out much, either as an adult—because of his condition—or as a child. In fact, his family had, for the most part, only stayed on properties they owned, so there usually weren’t even any witches or wizards around either—unless they’d been invited by the Malfoys. So, this was just weird...all the people. But, for Harry, he’d try to enjoy himself. With Harry, how could he not?

“We can even leave if you want,” his messy-haired husband continued. “Or, there’s a wizarding hotel we can switch to, if you’d prefer. I just thought I’d give you the whole experience. You know, see things we don’t get to see often...if ever.”

This time Draco did smile. Harry always tried to make him happy. Who could argue with that? “Thank you,” he whispered.

~ o ~

After checking into their hotel and then getting settled in their room—and fucking up against the sliding glass door that went out onto one of their private balconies, this one overlooking Great Bay, Harry dragged Draco down to the beach, where they found a lovely hammock to cuddle up in.

“See, isn’t this nice?” Harry asked after a few minutes of lying together, legs entwined, arms wound around one another.

“Mm-hmm,” Draco agreed, his eyes closing. “You did great.”

Smiling, Harry touched Draco’s face and kissed him, then ran his fingers lightly over the man’s bare arm—making the blond shiver. Lifting his head, Harry kissed the man again, then frowned. “Chilly?”

Draco shook his head. “No. That just feels nice.”

“What can I get you?” Harry asked. “Would you like a drink?”

“Hmm. All right?”

Smiling, Harry moved to get up, only to be held tight by the other man. “Where are you going?”

“To find us drinks.”

Draco huffed. “Muggle hotels are inconvenient.”

Harry grinned. “How’s that?”

“If we were at a wizarding hotel, we could just summon what we want...or call a house-elf.”

“True,” Harry said, “but where’s the fun in that?”

Draco pouted. “The fun, my dear husband, would be in that you wouldn’t have to get up and leave me lying here alone.”

Laughing, Harry lifted his head slightly and looked around. “I don’t have to leave you,” he said. “There’s a woman over there bringing drinks around.”

“A woman?”

Harry nodded.

Draco smiled lazily. “Order me something fruity.”

Harry managed to wave the woman down and placed their order, then curled into Draco while they waited—which wasn’t long.

“Here you are, gentlemen,” the woman said upon returning.

Rolling over, Harry took Draco’s drink and handed it to him, whispering, “Fuck Me From Behind.”

Gasping, Draco glanced nervously at the woman—whose face was pretty much expressionless—then back at Harry. “W-what?”

Harry grinned. “It’s the name of your drink,” he explained. “It’s coconut rum, raspberry liqueur, pineapple juice, and cranberry juice, with a splash of rum on top. Taste it.”

Looking at the drink skeptically, Draco struggled to get upright enough to drink, then took a sip. “Mmm. This is...wonderful. Vulgar name, but quite lovely otherwise.”

“I know, right,” Harry said as he accepted his own drink from the woman.

“Will there be anything else?” she asked.

“Not right now, I guess,” said Harry. “Just bill our room.”

Nodding, the woman left them alone again.

“What’s your drink called?” Draco asked when the woman was gone, expecting to hear something equally crude.

“This, is called a Bushwacker,” the dark-haired man said after swallowing his first sip. “It’s brilliant. Try it.”

Taking the glass, Draco sniffed it—causing Harry to chuckle, because the blond couldn’t just try anything—then sipped. “Ooo, that’s nice too.”

Grinning, Harry leaned in and took Draco’s lips with his own, sucking off the froth from his drink, then nibbling. “Yes, it is nice,” he said as he pulled back some, his eyes closed.

After finishing their drinks, they settled back down in each other’s arms again, this time falling asleep for quite some time. It was nearing evening when they were awakened by passing voices.”

“Dinner,” Harry said, sitting up. “I made us reservations.”

Groggily, Draco sat up and ran a hand through his hair. “Let’s cancel them and order in...and get acquainted with our bed.”

“I like the way you think, Mr. Malfoy-Potter,” Harry said, leaning in to kiss his husband.

“Do you now?”

“I do.”

Smiling lazily, Draco nudged the man next to him. “Well, go on then...up with you, so you can help me up out of this Muggle contraption thingy, Mr. Malfoy-Potter.”

Laughing, Harry rolled out of the hammock, then assisted Draco to his feet. It wasn’t easy, because the blond had somehow managed to get himself tangled up, but eventually they were on their way up to their room—where they stayed for the next thirty six hours without coming up for air.

~ o ~

“Merlin, I’m famished!” Draco exclaimed he and Harry sat down to eat their first real meal since arriving—finally!

The dark-haired man laughed. “I’m not surprised, we spent all of yesterday in bed fucking and hardly ate a thing. You’re completely insatiable, you know that, right?”

Draco smirked. “It’s our honeymoon, Potter, we’re supposed to be like this,” he said as he pulled out his napkin and snapped it over his lap. “And what we were doing...wasn’t fucking. Well, mostly not.” The blond smirked.

Harry ignored the use of his former surname, because he didn’t think he’d ever get his beautiful husband to stop calling him by it when the git felt like being snarky. “What’s our excuse when we’re at home then?” he asked instead—they rarely missed an opportunity to pleasure one another at home either.

Straightening his silverware, Draco looked up at Harry. “I can’t help if it you make me greedy. Besides, we spend loads of time doing other things.”

“Like?”

“Like taking care of our children.”

Harry nodded. “This is true. They sure do keep us busy.”

Draco smiled. “Yes, they do. So, what’s on the agenda for today?”

Harry grinned. “I’ve rented a sailboat,” he said proudly. “So today we sail.”

Frowning, Draco shook his head. “Why would we do that? I have no idea how to sail a boat. Do you?”

“No, but it’s a small craft. A fifty foot Hunter, I’m told...and it comes with a crew of two to do the work for us.”

“Oh. All right. Brilliant!”

“So, we’ll be doing that for the next two days,” Harry added, then picked up his glass of water and took a gulp—and waited for his husband to protest further.

Draco’s eyes widened. “Two days? What if I don’t like it? What if I get sea sick?”

Rolling his eyes, Harry leaned forward a bit and said, “Would you quit worrying! We’re just going to sail from St. Thomas to a tiny island called Jost Van Dyke, eat and drink there...sleep on the sailboat in the bay, then sail back. You’ll love it! And I have some Muggle Dramamine and a motion sickness potion, just in case.”

“But the crew...we won’t have any privacy,” the blond whispered, then bit his lip worriedly.

Harry smiled. “Thinking about fucking again, dear?”

“Always.”

Reaching across the table, Harry took both of Draco’s hands and smiled. “I’m not worried about it. I spoke to the guy on the phone when I booked it and he seemed like a nice bloke. He’s originally from New Jersey, but moved to the Caribbean when his wife died. And the other one is his daughter.”

Draco wrinkled his nose. “Daughter?”

Harry laughed. “The bloke is like seventy, so his daughter’s not going to be young and annoying.”

“Hmm.”

“Relax,” he said, giving a quick squeeze and pulling his hands back, because their food had arrived. “Now eat...we have to be at the boat in three hours.”

~ o ~

Turned out Draco LOVED sailing. In fact, the blond didn’t seem to mind a bit—or really even notice—that his hair was blown all to hell and back and that it was covered in salt...or that he’d forgotten to reapply a decent quantity of sunscreen and his skin had turned slightly pink. Draco even seemed fascinated by the workings of the sailboat, asked a million questions, and insisted on helping them get moored once they’d arrived at Great Harbor on the tiny island that was their destination—Jost Van Dyke, which was the smallest island in the British Virgin Islands. And he was pretty good at it too. The sailing.

And the father/daughter sailing team was nice too. They’d been living on their sailboat for about three years, but didn’t typically take strangers out. It had been the daughter’s idea to do this, to make a little extra cash and she was hoping to be able to convince her father to do it again.

Anyway, Draco loved the sailing so much that they ended up adding another day to their short trip, sailing to the island of Tortola in the morning instead of back to St. Thomas—then finally sailing back the next day. It was nearing evening on the fifth day of their honeymoon by the time they finally stepped off the boat.

“Well, boys, hope you two had a good time,” the man said.

“Yes, Sir, it was wonderful,” Draco said, smiling brilliantly, then looking at Harry. “We had a great time, didn’t we?”

Harry nodded. “We did,” he confirmed. “Do you have any suggestions for dinner.”

The man nodded. “One of the places I like to take friends and family when they visit is Room With a View. International cuisine. At Bluebeard’s castle.”

“Oceana’s great too,” the daughter put in as she finished securing the boat to the dock. “If you like seafood.”

“They have lamb and beef there as well, if you don’t care for seafood,” the father amended.

“Dad hates seafood,” the daughter said with a grin.

The father gave her a dirty look—teasingly—then continued. “Both those places are right here in Charlotte Amalie, but there are great places all over the island. We like the Caribbean Saloon in Red Hook. Mostly American food. Not too pricey.”

“But also not very romantic,” the daughter added. “It’s more of a sports bar and grill. Good food though. Oh! How about Bleuwater, Dad?”

The man nodded. “It’s at the Ritz-Carlton. Very nice. Requires reservations though.”

The daughter frowned. “Oh. I forgot about that. Hmm.”

Harry smiled. “Well, that’s where we’re staying, so maybe another night,” he said, then looked at Draco. “Want to try Oceana?”

Draco shrugged. “Sounds brilliant, but...I’ll need to get cleaned up first.”

“Right. Me too,” Harry agreed, glancing down at this windblown self, then frowning. “Which puts us back on the east end of the island to clean up, then back here to eat. Hmm.”

“Well, we’ll figure it out,” Draco said, looking at their two hosts and holding out his hand. “Thank you very much.”

“You’re welcome. Glad you had fun,” the man said. “Enjoy the rest of your stay.”

“Yeah, let us know if you’re ever back on the island,” the woman added.

Smiling and agreeing, Draco and Harry left to find a taxi.

~ o ~

“That was fun,” Draco said, using the sailor’s word.

Harry grinned. “I knew you’d like it. Really, Draco, you need to trust me more.”

Frowning, the blond said, “I trust you. I was just...worried about doing something I’ve never done. And...you’re making me do lots of things I’ve never done,” he accused, partially teasing.

Harry rolled his eyes. “It’s good for you.”

Draco stuck out his tongue—and Harry had the urge to take it into his mouth.

“It’s not like I’m a world-traveler, Draco,” he said instead. “I just knew you’d like it though and...I didn’t make you. I said we didn’t have to do anything you didn’t want to do. You agreed to go.”

“True.”

Smiling again, Harry wrapped his arms around Draco and leaned in to nuzzle his neck—which caused the blond to stiffen.

“We’re not alone,” he reminded his oblivious husband, his eyes going to the rearview mirror and connecting with their driver’s knowing look.

With a sigh, Harry backed off, but linked his fingers with his husband’s. “Anyway, they were nice and sailing was great! I love being out on the water. And you’re a natural at sailing.”

Draco puffed up. “Naturally.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “And so modest.”

“Well, I am...aren’t I? A natural,” he said, trying to elicit some praise—but only causing Harry’s eyes to roll again.

“So. Where would you like to go for supper?” he asked, refusing to feed his husband’s already inflated ego.

Draco pouted for a second, then shrugged. “Maybe we could just eat in again,” he suggested.

Harry laughed. “All right, if that’s what you want to do. Room service it is then!”

With a grin, Draco completely forgot about their driver and leaned in and kissed Harry properly—then spent the rest of the ride back to their hotel getting the dark-haired man all hot and bothered in the backseat of the taxicab.

~ o ~

On the seventh day of their honeymoon they decided to sightsee. Well...they, meaning Harry decided that’s what they were going to do, because he wanted to get Draco out and about—with Draco protesting, trying to lure Harry back into bed.

“But we haven’t tried out this room, Potter,” the blond said as he turned and headed from the main lounge-type room toward one of the other bedrooms.

Smiling, Harry grabbed Draco by the back of his denims and pulled, to prevent him from leaving the room. “Uh-uh,” he said, turning Draco around, then slipping his arms around the man’s narrow waist and pulling him close, so that they were chest to chest. “Today we’re going to take the Skyride up to Paradise Point and see the sights.”

“Paradise sounds nice, but...can’t we just stay here to get that?” the blond said suggestively, rubbing himself up against his husband.

Harry chuckled. Draco was nearly always randy...especially now that they didn’t have children in their midst with whom to contend.

“And what’s a Skyride? Are we going flying or something?”

“Something like that.”

“Potter, you know I didn’t bring a broom. Neither of us did. Or did you shrink them and pack them?” he asked with a frown. “I’ve told you it’s not good to shrink certain types of brooms. Mine in particular.”

Smiling, Harry shook his head. “I didn’t shrink our brooms, Draco. You know I wouldn’t do that after the scene you caused that last time. Nor did I bring them, as you well know. The Skyride is a gondola-like thing that’ll take us up to Paradise Point. I think I read that it’s called a tram.”

Draco wrinkled his nose. “More Muggle transportation? First that horrible aeroplane, then a crazy taxi ride, then the sailboat, and now this. I think you’re trying to get me killed.”

Harry laughed again. “If I’m trying to kill you, then I must be suicidal, since I’ve gone everywhere with you. No, Draco, killing you is the last thing on my mind,” Harry said, nuzzling the blond’s neck.

Draco snorted, but closed his eyes and tilted his head to give Harry better access. “Well, with all this, get me out of the hotel business, I think the last thing on your mind is fucking! Why’d you get us this lovely three bedroom suite if we’re only going to stay in one of the rooms?” Draco asked.

Sighing, Harry stopped nibbling and shrugged. “I guess because this is the best and I knew you’d like it,” he said, running his fingers over the blond man’s jaw. “But I still want you to see more than just the ceiling over our bed or having your face pushed into the mattress.”

Draco pouted. “But I like having my face pushed into—”

“We are gong out!” interrupted Harry. “Then later, if you want, I’ll fuck you into the mattress...or you can do me.”

Draco grinned. “I want.”

“Good. Now, put your shoes on...those sturdy ones I got you,” Harry instructed. “There’s some hiking involved in this outing.”

“Hiking?” the blond queried.

Harry nodded, preparing himself for more protestation. “Yes. And before you start complaining, remember how much you didn’t want to go sailing, but ended up loving it?”

Draco frowned, but nodded. “But that wasn’t physical exertion.”

“Are you kidding me?” Harry asked with a snort. “You were covered in sweat, sea water, and salt while we were sailing...and were sexy as hell doing it, by the way.” Harry winked and Draco grinned. “You worked your arse off,” the dark-haired man continued. “And really, Draco, you’re acting like you did when we were kids at Hogwarts. I know you’re made of thicker skin than this. Hell, you have seven children that make you work hard every day of your life.”

Sighing, Draco nodded and melted back into Harry’s embrace. “You’re right. I’m just...out of my element, I guess. Just keep reminding me how wonderful you think I am and it might just sink in.”

Rolling his eyes, Harry gave his husband a sound snogging, then slapped his rear end and backed off. “Come on, beautiful, let’s get going!”

~ o ~

Day eight of the honeymoon was spent in downtown Charlotte Amalie so that Draco could shop—and boy did he shop!

The principal street there was called Dronningens Gade, though it was better known as Main Street, and then there was Back Street and Waterfront, as well as the side streets and alleyways that crisscrossed and connected the three main roads—with stores lining each of the main roads and a variety of unique shops and boutiques on the smaller ones. There were also several small cozy restaurants and fun-looking bars—which they mostly ignored, because Draco wanted to shop.

After hours of wandering around buying things—alcohol, art, a camera, china, clothing, crystal, jewelry, more clothing, perfume, trinkets for the kids, watches—Draco sighed. “I’m exhausted.”

“Me too.”

“And hungry,” the blond added.

Harry nodded. “I could definitely use a meal,” he agreed, thinking it would still be a while before Draco was done with his purchases.

“What do you think of this for mother?” Draco asked as he examined a particularly exquisite necklace of diamonds and sapphires.

Leaning in, Harry looked the piece over. “It’s lovely, but...we already got your mother a crystal vase, some fancy perfume, and a set of dishes...that I’m sure she doesn’t need.”

Draco rolled his eyes. “China, Potter, not dishes,” he corrected. “And she’ll love them.”

“Narcissa Malfoy is going to love china made by Muggles?” the dark-haired man asked his husband skeptically. “What’s the world coming to?”

“What we bought mother was not made by Muggles,” Draco said, rolling his eyes yet again, then leaning over and kissing Harry’s temple, “so, not to worry, dearest.”

Harry laughed. “Who was worried? I was just commenting on it.”

“Now, the necklace...what do you think of it? For mother.”

Harry looked down and focused on the piece of jewelry...which was marked seven thousand two hundred and forty-seven U.S. dollars. Mentally doing the math, Harry converted that to pounds, then to wizarding money and came up with almost seven hundred and twenty Galleons—not that it mattered, because they had plenty of money.

“Wouldn’t she prefer emeralds?” he asked. “Or something else green.”

“No. Mother likes sapphires...and rubies.”

“Ahh. I‘ll keep that in mind.” Harry said, then shrugged. “If you think she’d like it, then buy it.”

Smiling, Draco took his eyes off the necklace and focused them on Harry. “I know I’m spending quite a lot, but—”

Harry immediately put his finger to Draco’s soft pink lips. “No buts. You’re having fun and that’s all that matters. And it’s not like we have to worry about cash flow, right? So get it. Buy the entire shop if you’d like.”

Draco laughed. “As much as I love all the pretty sparkly things I see here, I’m not really into jewelry.”

Harry raised a brow. “Hmm. I seem to recall you having a fair few pieces of jewelry at home.”

“Well yes, but...I didn’t buy most of that for myself. Many of those things were gifts...mostly from mother, some from father, and a few from friends. Several of them are family heirlooms. But you don’t see me actually wearing any of it, do you?”

“True.”

“Except my wedding band,” he said as he lifted his hand and gazed lovingly at the ring Harry had given him.

Harry smiled. “Well, I’m glad you wear that, at least.”

“I’m never going to take it off,” Draco declared.

“I love mine too, Draco.”

Leaning in, Draco took Harry’s lips with his own and tried to show his husband how much he loved him—until the man behind the counter cleared his throat.

“Oh. Sorry. I guess we got carried away,” the blond said, his face pink with embarrassment—or maybe it was just flushed with desire.

“That’s quite all right, Sir,” the man said, smiling at the loving couple.

“We’ll take the necklace,” Harry said, not taking his eyes off Draco’s face.

The man behind the counter nodded. “Good choice. I’ll just get this wrapped up.”

~ o ~

On day nine, after a lovely breakfast in bed—not the one they’d been staying in, because Draco insisted on using all that they had in their suite—and another good fucking, the couple headed out to Coki Beach for some more sun and sand...and some snorkeling, which, surprisingly enough, Draco didn’t argue and/or complain about.

Well, there was a certain amount of “complaining,” but it was more because he didn’t know how to snorkel and it took some time to explain what they had to do—and then some grumbling about how ridiculous they looked in their gear.

Mask on, Draco tried to talk with the snorkel in his mouth as they walked, flip-flopping along into the water in their swimfins—but it mostly just came out as mumbling.

“Draco, I can’t understand you. You don’t need to put the tube in your mouth until we’re in the water and ready to go under,” said Harry, trying very hard not to laugh—or show even the slightest signs of mirth—or he’d have an angry husband with whom to contend, which was not something he wanted.

Removing the mouthpiece, then pushing the mask up onto his forehead, Draco looked at Harry. “I can’t believe you’re making me wear these absurd water shoe things. And...do you suppose other people have worn them before us?” he asked, a look of disdain on his face. He wasn’t used to sharing anything and didn’t like the idea of doing it now.

“I’d imagine so,” Harry answered. “We’re just renting them.”

Draco frowned, then glanced at the snorkel he’d just had in his mouth. “That’s simply...revolting!”

“You sound just like your father, Draco,” said Harry, rolling his eyes, but smiling to show that he didn’t really mind. “Don’t worry, they wash them, I’m sure. And, we have to wear this gear in order to snorkel. The fins will make it so we can move quickly in the water. Like the fish.”

“Maybe we should have purchased our own gear,” Draco suggested.

Harry shrugged. “We could have, but whatever for? I doubt we’ll ever need the stuff again.”

“True,” Draco agreed. “What’s the purpose of doing this again?” the blond asked next.

“To look at fish and underwater flora. And because it’s fun.”

“So, you’ve done this before?”

Harry nodded. “Just once...on that retreat I told you about. But over in at Secret Harbor, not here.”

Draco frowned, then narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “Who were you with?”

Smiling, Harry took Draco’s hand and squeezed. “It was a work event. I came here with co-workers. None of whom you know...obviously, because they’re all Muggles. And I never had sex with any of them.”

“Not one of them? Ever?” the blond pushed.

“Not one ever,” Harry confirmed seriously—because he knew Draco needed him to. “They were all a bunch of very straight coppers.”

“Humph!” was the only sound Draco made as they continued into the water, fingers still entwined. “All right. Are we going to do this or what?” he asked once they were waist-deep in the azure blue water. Smiling, his husband nodded. This made Draco feel better, but he still wanted more explanation. “Explain that blast cleaning and death place stuff again. I don’t want to get that homocornia thing.”

Harry tried so hard to not laugh, but he just couldn’t seem to prevent a giggle from bubbling out.

“What?” Draco asked innocently.

“Blast clearing and dead space,” Harry corrected. “And it’s hypercapnia.”

“Oh right. That.” Then, waving a hand dismissively, Draco said, “Whatever. Explain again and let’s go.”

~ o ~

On day ten, Draco and Harry had planned to just stay in again. Maybe step out to get some lunch or possibly go down and find another hammock to lounge in again—they’d both loved the hammock—but mostly just relax. But then, while nibbling on strawberries and looking through some Muggle fashion magazines—which Harry had brought back for him from the hotel lobby when he’d gone out to get a newspaper—Draco found something interesting. It was an advertisement of some sort.

Magic Ice

We welcome you to the biggest permanent ice gallery in the world!  
Magic Ice’s entire exhibition is constructed of crystal clear ice  
consisting of beautiful sculptures, a kids slide, wedding chapel, and  
a pirate ship bar, all made of ICE!

Large parts of the exhibition will emphasize the rich history of the  
Caribbean. You will get a glimpse into the 18th century lifestyle.  
Here you will find sculptures from the “Golden Age of Piracy,” with  
shipwrecks, lighthouses and animal life, among many other  
beautiful and historical sculptures made of ice. And then, imagine a  
huge ice bar, which look like a shipwreck, sitting in the center of  
the ice gallery—providing drinks for its patrons.

By combining ice, sound, and history, we aim to create a unique  
experience were you can take the time to savor the extraordinary  
atmosphere of this dynamic new realm of ice, art, and leisure!

This is world class ice art. Artists from different parts of the world  
have created “art below zero” in Charlotte Amalie.

Come visit Magic Ice today! It’ll be a “wow”-type experience you’ve  
never had the opportunity to see before.

“Hey. Look at this, Harry. What do you think?” Draco asked after reading it a couple times.

Harry read through the ad, then looked up at Draco. “Did you want to go there?”

Draco shrugged. “Might be interesting to see something that Muggles consider magical.”

“I don’t think there’s actually any magic to it. It’s just called that because, to Muggles, it’s magical...in a beautiful sort of way.”

Draco nodded. “I know. Can we go?”

“Sure. If you want to go, then we’ll go,” Harry agreed, happy that Draco actually wanted to do something. “What do you think about having supper at that Room With a View place we were told about?”

“Sounds brilliant,” Draco said as he leaned over and kissed Harry.

And so they did.

~ o ~

The next day was pretty much their last day on the island—because their flight home left the morning after—so Harry decided to make it a spa day, booking them the four-hour his and his spa getaway package, because he knew Draco would love the pampering.

But again, this put Draco out of his comfort zone, having strangers—Muggles—touching him.

“Do I need do anything before our...treatment?” the blond asked, as if they were having something clinical done to them.

“Just shower and show up.”

“I’m not sure how I feel about them touching me,” Draco said worriedly.

Harry rolled his eyes. “Their grubby Muggle touch isn’t going to burn your delicate wizard skin or make you melt, Draco.”

“I know that, but....”

“But what?”

“You do recall that I’ve had to keep myself extremely isolated, right? I’m not used to being around the masses, Muggle or magical. And I’ve never been a touchy-feely person.”

Quickly moving to Draco’s side, Harry pulled the other man into his arms and held him. “Yes, I do remember your forced isolation and the reason for it. You’ve had to go through quite a lot, Draco. I know this and will never forget it. But you’re going to thank me later for making you do this. I promise that you’ll love it.”

Leaning into Harry, Draco rested his head on Harry’s shoulder and sighed. “You’ll be there the entire time?” He wasn’t sure why he was so concerned about this, but he was. It might just be that he was so far from home, but...things felt so different here.

Harry nodded. “I’ll be there for the couples massage in the cabana, the his and his facials, and the his and his mani/pedi that comes at the end. Champagne included,” he added to tempt his husband—but Draco didn’t bite.

Frowning, the blond leaned back and stared at him. “But you loathe having your feet touched.”

“Hmm. Well, maybe I’ll just skip out of that last part if you’re feeling comfortable at that point.”

“But you’ll stay if I want you to.”

Harry nodded. “Of course.”

Draco smirked knowingly. “Because you love me.”

“Well, yeah, I love you...wouldn’t have married you otherwise.”

“So, you didn’t marry me because of the children?”

“Hell no! I mean, I love them too, of course, but...I would never just be with or marry someone for the children. That sort of thing never makes anyone very happy.”

Draco’s smirk immediately softened to a genuine smile—one filled with love—as he nestled himself back into his husband’s arms. “Thank you, Harry...for all of this. I know I’ve been a right pain in the arse, but I really am having a good time.”

“I know you are, love,” the dark-haired man said. Reaching up and weaving his fingers into Draco’s soft hair, Harry grabbed on and pulled—gently, but firmly—so that he could snog his husband properly. “Let’s shower, so we can head out.”

A bit dazed—from the snogging—Draco nodded, then pushed his arousal up against Harry’s hip. “You might have to help me out with this problem I have first.”

Harry grinned. “Far be it from me to leave you with any sort of problem,” he said, teasingly rubbing himself up against Draco’s hard length. “Clothes off. Now!” he insisted.

And so they showered—and did other things—before going down to enjoy their spa day, which happened to start with about twenty minutes in the steam room, then moved to a private cabana for their massages.

“I don’t want a female,” Draco decided, faking a shudder as they walked down the path to their seaside cabana.

Harry laughed. “You can have whomever you want, dear...providing he’s available.”

“That wouldn’t bother you...another man touching me?”

“It’s a massage, Draco, it’s not like the bloke’s going to be jerking you off, so...no, it won’t bother me.”

“Humph. Well, you should have a female,” Draco said, “because another man touching you isn’t at all fine with me.”

Laughing again, Harry nodded. “That’s fine. I can deal with that.”

“Really? It doesn’t bother you that I’m being slightly controlling?”

Choosing not to correct his husband’s ‘slightly’ to something more considerable, Harry shrugged. “You don’t seem to be like this at home, so I think I can handle it.”

“Hmm. All right then,” the blond said as they arrived at the cabana. Stepping in, Draco’s eyes widened as a particularly handsome man moved away from the beds he’d been preparing and gestured that they should undress and lie down face down. When he was gone, the blond looked at Harry. “I want that one.”

“He is the one you’re getting, darling,” Harry said, hiding his smile as he leaned in and kissed his excited husband soundly. “I booked him just for you.”

“Really?”

Harry nodded.

“His hair’s not as dark and he doesn’t have green eyes, but...he sort of looks like you.”

Harry laughed. “When I saw him, I knew you wouldn’t want anyone else,” he said, then reached for the buttons of Draco’s trousers. “We should undress before he returns.”

Kicking off his shoes, Draco’s fingers went to the material at Harry’s waist and lifted it up and over his head, then he stepped out of his own trousers. “Hmm. Look at us, undressing again.”

“Too bad we don’t have time for another fuck before my near-identical twin returns,” Harry teased as he hooked his thumbs into Draco’s pants and pulled them down. “Oh, but look what we have here,” he went on, wrapping a hand around Draco’s rising member. “Are you ever fully satisfied?”

Rutting in Harry’s hand, Draco tried, but found himself unable to respond to his husband’s question. Instead, he put his hands on Harry’s shoulders and pushed him down to his knees. And Harry, on his knees for the second time since they’d woken up that morning, knew exactly what Draco wanted—and needed—and so he made short work of Draco’s quickly rising problem. Afterward, Draco reciprocated. And then they got themselves situated on their respective beds—just in time.

~ o ~

“Merlin, Potter! That was positively obscene!” the blond hissed when their massage therapists stepped out, leaving them to put on their robes. “You moaned through that like I had you bent over the sofa at home and was fucking you fast and hard.”

Harry laughed. “Didn’t seem to hear yourself though, did you?”

Draco frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that you were moaning pretty loudly yourself, love,” said Harry as he leaned in and started kissing Draco luscious lips. “And I loved every second of listening to you. It was very hot.”

“I...ahh...didn’t hear...myself,” Draco said in between kisses. “Hot, you say?”

Harry nodded. “It was rather obscene as well, but...I suspect they’ve heard that kind of thing before. Luckily we took care of ourselves before the massage, yeah?”

“Hmm. I suppose. Though...I might need to be...taken care of again,” the blond said, gesturing down at himself; he wasn’t completely hard, but was getting there.

Laughing, Harry shook his head. “Me too, but...it’ll have to wait, we still have quite a bit of pampering to enjoy.”

“Right. Pampering,” Draco said with a nod. “Have I told you that I’m really enjoying myself?”

“You might have mentioned it. But for now, we put on robes,” Harry said, kissing his husband, then holding out a pure white fluffy robe that matched the one he was holding for himself. “Come on, robe up, so we can get our lovely facials.”

Sighing, Draco grabbed the robe and maneuvered himself into it.

~ o ~

“Draco! We need to go!” Harry called out from the entry door of their suite.

“I’m coming!” the blond yelled from their room—wishing that he really was coming...in the other way—then, when he appeared in front of his husband, he said, “I was just rechecking everything to make sure we didn’t forget anything.”

Harry sighed. “We didn’t. I checked before going down and checking us out of the hotel, then I rechecked while you were showering. We’re all set.”

Draco huffed, then glanced around again. “I just want to be sure.”

Smiling, the dark-haired man pulled out his wand and shrunk all but two small-ish bags each, then stowed his wand and shrugged. “Ready then?”

Giving the room once last look, Draco shrugged. “I guess. Are you sure we can’t just go to the island’s wizard transportation center and purchase a Portkey? I really don’t fancy another thirteen hours in that Muggle flying death trap and...wouldn’t it be nice to be home and with the children in just over an hour?”

Harry frowned. “Well, we could do that if you really want to. I was just trying to make this one hundred percent Muggle.”

Glancing at their shrunken bags, Draco pursed his lips and smirked at Harry.

“Okay. Well, almost one hundred percent,” Harry amended. “But I wouldn’t be opposed to purchasing a Portkey. I miss our little buggers something fierce as well.”

Draco grinned. “Really? I mean the Portkey thing...I know you miss the children.”

“Yeah sure. Let’s do it!”

~ o ~

And so it was just under two hours later that Draco and Harry were walking into their London flat. Turns out no one was there, because apparently there was an outing planned. And they knew this much because someone—no doubt about that someone being Hermione—had drawn up an activities board, which was sitting in the middle of Draco and Harry’s ground floor lounge. They’d all gone to Diagon Alley for lunch and a little shopping and, according to the board, wouldn’t be home until evening.

“So, what do we do now?” Draco asked.

Harry shrugged. “You’re the one who wanted to get home quickly...what would you like to do?”

Draco just smirked.

Harry rolled his eyes. “Well…there’s that.”

Dropping his luggage, Draco closed the space between himself and Harry, took the bags his husband had slung over his shoulder and set them on the floor, then wrapped his arms around the dark-haired man and Apparated them up to their bedroom. He wasted no time stripping Harry down to his birthday suit, shucking his own clothing at the same time, then pushing Harry back onto the bed.

“We probably have a few hours, but...just in case we don’t...let’s hurry,” Draco suggested, his gray eyes sparkling playfully.

Harry nodded. “What do you want, Draco?” he whispered—though he sort of knew what the other man would say.

“I’d like...would you let me...fuck you?” the blond asked, blushing.

Leaning up, Harry answered Draco with a kiss, then whispered their favorite lubrication spell—there were several—to prepare himself and rolled over.

Smiling, Draco bent down and peppered kisses down Harry’s bare back until he reached his arse, then he ran his tongue along its seam. Gently pushing his knees between Harry’s legs, the blond settled himself there, lapping at Harry’s now exposed bollocks—causing the receiving man to shudder and groan.

“Don’t make me wait, Draco,” Harry moaned out after several minutes of Draco’s teasing. “Just get to it. Fuck me!”

Chuckling, Draco swirled his tongue over Harry’s full bollocks a few more times, then ran it up and over his ready hole, causing Harry to cry out incoherently. Then he moved back up the dark-haired man’s back, inching his way back to Harry’s neck before positioning himself and pushing into the writhing body under him.

“You feel...wonderful,” the blond ground out after a few thrusts.

“You...do...too,” Harry agreed, shifting somewhat to give Draco better access, then pushing back to meet his husband thrust for thrust.

“Are you sure...this is all right?”

Harry laughed—or tried to. “Brilliant!” he exclaimed, pushing back onto Draco’s cock once again and shuddering when he felt his sensitive balls come in contact with Draco’s.

And so Draco sped up the pace, experimenting with angles each time he pushed himself into Harry’s tight arse.

“OH! Right there!” Harry burst when the right spot was found.

Sweat trickling down Draco’s face and dripping onto Harry’s equally damp back, Draco squeezed his eyes closed and concentrated on hitting Harry’s prostate with each and every thrust—until the man he loved was screaming out his release beneath him. It only took a few more pushes through the pulsing ring of muscle of Harry’s arse to have Draco coming as well, then he collapsed onto him, completely sated.

“That was...brilliant,” he finally said, when he was able to breathe again. But all Harry could do was nod as he drifted off to sleep.

And the next thing they knew—hours later—they were being jumped on by seven rowdy children, who didn’t seem to give a Puffskein’s arse that their fathers were sound asleep and stark naked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have been to most of the places mentioned in this chapter...as my dad is the sailor that Harry commissioned to take Draco and him around. And...I guess that makes me “the daughter” in this chapter. I tried very hard to keep my part short, because this is not about me. *wink* My dad’s boat was (he no longer lives on it on St. Thomas) was a 38’ Hunter, instead of the larger one I put in the chapter...I was just trying to make room for myself and, in order to do that (add another bedroom), the sail boat had to be a bit larger. My dad’s boat was called the LauRay (a combination between his deceased wife’s name and his name) and pics of my trip can be found on my RL Facebook. Not sure if my real name is in my profile, so here it is...Sheri Ward...so anyone interested can search FB for me and look the pics over. I went there twice to visit my dad (2007 and 2008)...GORGEOUS place to be. Absolute paradise!
> 
> Arrival time. Hmm. As far as I can tell—from all flights I’ve looked at to go to St. Thomas (and actually taken there myself)—planes coming from a good distance away (London, in the case of Harry and Draco...or Los Angeles, in my case) always seem to land fairly late. Both of mine landed around 9:00pm and I could not find one earlier arrival in my research to get Draco and Harry there—but I wanted them to arrive early, so I decided to say fuck it! and have them arrive when I wanted them to. Sorry for the inaccuracy.
> 
> Dronningens Gade is apparently Danish and means Queens Street. And further, there is a Dronningensgade in the Christianshavn district of Copenhagen, Denmark, running parallel to Christianshavn Canal one block to the east, from Christianshavn Rampart in the south to Bådsmandsstræde in the north. It makes sense, I guess, since the Danish conquered the island in 1666.
> 
> Coki Beach. I didn’t go there, because I opted to sleep in, then hang at the bar with dad while my brother and sister went snorkeling (I’m not into snorkeling at all).
> 
> Magic Ice. Also didn’t go there, because it opened in 2012 (I think). But, for the sake of my fic, we’ll just pretend that Draco and Harry saw it. :-)
> 
> As for everything else...been there, done that. *grin*


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * time skip (1 year, 4 months, 1 week, and 6 days...from the end of the last chapter)  
> * friends  
> * cute kiddies, loving daddies  
> * reassurance

Conversations in the Park  
...with old friends  
July 2010

~ o ~

Nervous, Draco watched his family from across the park. He was sat stiffly, on a bench, waiting for his childhood friends to make an appearance—but he couldn’t seem to take his eyes off Harry and their children.

Their older boys—plus his own twelve-year-old cousin, Teddy, with his hair its usual bright turquoise blue—were kicking a Muggle football around while Harry sat on their massive red and white plaid picnic blanket with their four youngest. It looked like Scorpius was reading—he was only four and half, but read like an eight-year-old—while the other three nibbled on snack food and giggled at whatever it was that Harry was saying to them.

Smiling, Draco wished he was over there with his family, but knew he was where he needed to be—for now.

While watching them, Harry glanced up, then waved, causing Draco to smile again and nod his head in acknowledgement. It was just enough to let his husband know he was okay—though wistful—but not enough so Harry would stop worrying. It was just a fact that Harry would never stop worrying about him. Sometimes it was a nuisance, but on days like this...Draco could not be more thankful.

And then Draco Malfoy-Potter was no longer sitting on the bench alone.

“Hello, Draco darling,” came the voice of his long-time friend.

Smiling, Draco wrapped his arms around Pansy as she plopped herself down onto his lap and pulled him into a hug. “Missed you too, Pans,” he said simply, pressing his face into her dark hair.

Pansy didn’t immediately detach herself from him. Instead, she hung on as if he were going to disappear. It had been a long time since they’d seen one another. And so he just continued to hold her—until two throats were cleared, Blaise Zabini speaking first.

“Sorry to interrupt you two lovebirds, but—”

“Pansy’s not the only long lost friend you have here, you know!” Gregory Goyle added, his voice low and still slightly raspy.

Pansy pulled back and snorted, then stood up, so that Draco could stand and greet the two who’d come with her. Pursing his lips, Draco looked from Pansy to Blaise and Greg, then smiled at them, his heart heavy. He wasn’t quite sure how to react to seeing them after all this time—about eleven years for Blaise and exactly ten years and five months for Greg—but he was more than a bit tense. They appeared to be as well. Sadly, they’d hardly kept in contact since finishing at Hogwarts—only an owl here and there and...hardly even that.

Except for Greg, of course. For a while anyway. Draco’d had a lot of contact with him following the war...trying to help his friend through his grief. But that too had ended with Draco’s condition. And Greg had been in no condition to protest at the time either. In fact, Draco’d tried to stay in contact with him, but not one of his owls was returned. After a while he’d given up.

“Hi guys,” Draco said, holding his hand out for his friends to take—because he didn’t seem to know what else to do.

Blaise glanced at Greg, snorted a laugh, then reached for Draco and pulled him into his arms. “It’s been a long time, Draco. Too long and we are not going to start off with a cordial handshake.”

Smiling sheepishly. Draco clapped his friend on the back, then turned and embraced Greg as well.

“You look...good,” he said to Gregory Goyle. And he meant it! The last time he’d seen him, Greg was a mess—physically and mentally—but apparently he’d gotten his shit together in the last decade. And, he wasn’t a massive lug anymore either. He was still large and broad, of course, but not at all overweight.

Greg grinned. “Those mind healers worked wonders, I tell ya.”

Draco nodded. “I can see that. I’m so glad,” he said. “I felt awful about leaving you like I did, but....”

“I know, Draco,” Goyle said, putting his hand on the blond’s shoulder and squeezing. “You had your own journey to go on.” He laughed. “I always wondered about you and Potter. You never could leave the prat alone.”

Draco blushed.

“Didn’t think you’d end up marrying him though,” Blaise added.

Pansy snorted. “Our Draco was always gay though, so...why not Potter?”

They all laughed, then glanced over to where Harry was now lying on his back, three young children piled on top of him.

“You’re happy then?” Greg asked as they listened to the children shriek with glee.

His eyes going back across the park to his family—to his husband and their gaggle of children—Draco nodded. “Surprisingly, I am.”

“Well then, that’s all that matters,” Blaise said from his left.

“So. Do we get to meet them...the fam?” Pansy asked.

Draco nodded. “Of course. That’s why we’re here and...Harry’s prepared. More so that I.”

“Sounds odd hearing you use Potter’s given name,” Blaise commented, his nose wrinkling a bit.

Snorting, the blond man grinned. “Should I call my husband by his surname...which is Malfoy-Potter now, by the way? That would be weird.”

Blaise shrugged. “I suppose it would be.”

“Draco Malfoy-Potter,” said Pansy, testing out how her friend’s new name sounded—then she giggled and looped her arm through Draco’s. “Shall we then...go meet them all? Your massive horde of offspring and the doting hubby?”

Blaise laughed and Draco nodded, but Greg looked...a bit freaked out.

“Um. Maybe I shouldn’t,” the large man put in, his brow bunching up and his deep set eyes darkening as he looked out across the park again to look at his friend’s children.

Draco frowned. “Is it because of Harry or...Caelum?” he asked quietly.

Greg shrugged. “Maybe both.”

Disentangling his arm from Pansy, Draco faced Greg and shook his head. “I was a bit worried too...to see you guys,” he said, looking from one friend to the other, then back to Gregory Goyle, “but enough time has passed. It’s time. Don’t you think?”

Shrugging, Greg’s eyes went from Draco’s to look at Harry Potter and the eight children playing around him. “Who’s the blue-haired kid?”

Draco laughed. “That’s Teddy Lupin. My cousin’s son. She died in the war,” he said, his voice catching before he continued. “Harry’s his godfather. He’s Caelum’s best friend.”

Taking a deep breath, Greg nodded. “All right then, let’s get this over with before I change my mind.”

With a smile, Draco threw one arm over Greg’s shoulders, then smiled down at Pansy as she took up his other hand.

~ o ~

Still lying on his back beneath three giggling children, Harry was immediately aware—as a shadow passed over him, causing him to turn his eyes up toward where the sun had been—that Draco and his friends had arrived.

“Er...hi,” he said.

Pansy rolled her eyes and looked at Draco. “Eloquent, as always, I see, Draco darling,” the dark-haired woman said to her friend about his horizontal husband.

Laughing, Draco bent over and pulled his two daughters off their other father, then did the same to the little boy sitting smack dab in the center of Harry’s chest—then he reached out and grabbed his husband’s hand and yanked him to his feet.

“Good to see you too, Parkinson,” said Harry as he brushed at his clothes, then his wild hair—as if it would help.

“Draco, if I have to call him Harry, the least he can do is call me by my name,” she complained.

Draco smiled. “Indeed. Harry?" he said, lifting the little boy who’d been tugging on his denims and calling out a ‘Up daddy! Up daddy!’ with each yank.

Harry rolled his eyes. “Pansy,” he amended. “I’m glad you could make it. That you all could,” he added, glancing from Parkinson to Zabini and Goyle.

Pansy smirked, satisfied—but then her gaze went to the child in Draco’s arms, her eyes widening. “Holy shit, that kid looks like you...Harry,” she burst, eyeing the child’s black hair that was sticking out ever which way—just like Harry’s always had and still did.

“Except the eyes. He has Draco’s eyes,” Blaise added curiously, his head tilted and examining the child in Draco’s arms.

Draco and Harry both grinned, pleased that this child seemed to look like them both equally. “That he does,” Harry said. “And thank Merlin too, my eyes are complete shite!”

Both Pansy and Blaise laughed nervously, but Greg was silent.

“So, this is Sirius,” Draco introduced proudly, shifting the boy in his arms. Sirius instantly raised his chubby hand and waved hello.

“Ahh, isn’t that cute,” Pansy cooed. “I need to get married and have one of those sometime. I’m so behind.”

Blaise scoffed. “You? Married? With brats? What’s the world coming to?”

Rolling her eyes, Pansy smacked her friend with the back of her hand and childishly stuck out her tongue. “I have to stop playing at some point,” she said. “Don’t I?”

Blaise laughed. “I don’t plan to ever stop playing, but...you should do whatever you want, darling,” he said as he leaned down and placed a kiss on the top of Pansy’s head.

“All right then. So, this is Sirius’ twin sister, Lyra,” Harry said—then added, “They’re two and half and not at all shy,” as he picked up his and Draco’s youngest daughter and passed her to Pansy Parkinson. Harry was instantly proven correct when his little girl leaned in and pressed a sloppy wet kiss to Pansy’s cheek, causing everyone to laugh again, this time much more comfortably.

“Oh my!” Pansy said, her heart clearly melting. “Aren’t you just adorable?! With your...reddish locks and your daddy’s big green eyes.”

Lyra grinned and clapped her hands, then brought one of her hands up to her face and pointed. “Geen eyzz,” she mimicked, then leaned in and kissed Pansy again—causing Pansy to beam with pleasure, then blush.

“You know, I cannot believe I’m letting a little Potter kiss me,” she said, her nose wrinkling as if she were disgusted by the situation—though it was obvious that she wasn’t—her eyes going from the adorable child in her arms to the little girl’s two fathers.

Laughing, Harry didn’t bother correcting her about his surname being Malfoy-Potter—why couldn’t anyone seem to remember that?—and instead replied with, “And this one’s Aria” as he perched their very blonde three-year-old on his hip, her blue eyes shining brightly at the newcomers. “She’s a little more bashful than the twins,” he added when she leaned her head against his chest and stuffed a couple fingers in her mouth. Aria was also a bit smaller than the twins, even though she was slightly older than them.

“And Scorpius,” Draco said, gesturing at the child who was still sitting on the blanket reading—reading glasses identical to Harry’s perched on his nose—then beckoning the four-and-half-year-old forward when he looked up.

Frowning, Scorpius placed a marker in his book, then removed his glasses, folded them, and slipped them into his shirt pocket, then stood up and came forward. “Hello,” he said politely—somewhat snootily, much like Draco had once been—looking up at his fathers’ friends.

Smiling, Draco’s friends all greeted the boy, Blaise kneeling to offer the child his hand. “Good to finally meet you, Scorpius. You look just like your dad.”

Taking his hand, Scorpius smiled...courteously? “Good day, sir,” he said, his gray eyes cool and narrowing as they went from one man to the other, then to the lady he didn’t know. “Ma’am.”

Chuckling, because the child’s look very much resembled one of Draco’s famous boyhood sneers, Blaise looked up at his friend. “Another replica, I see. In more ways than one.”

“Except the specs,” Greg added with a frown, looking from the child to Draco and Harry.

Draco rolled his eyes, because Scorpius insisted on wearing them for reading even though he didn’t need them.

Frowning, Pansy shifted Lyra and glanced at her old friend. “Are you sure he belongs to Astoria?” she whispered.

Draco’s brow raised. “He belongs to me...and Harry,” he hissed, obviously irritated—then softened his voice. “But yes. Though, I wouldn’t have thought so either...had I not been present at his birth,” he said quietly.

And then they were joined by four others.

“Dads?” Caelum queried looking from one of his fathers to the other. He often combined them into one to make things easier now. Plus, he thought he was much too old to be calling anyone ‘daddy.’

“Hey, buddy,” Harry said as his husband reached out and put his free hand on their eldest’s shoulder, hoping to reassure him.

“I’d like you to meet some of my friends from school, boys,” said Draco. “This is Pansy, Blaise, and Greg. And this is the rest of our brood; Caelum, Orion and Corvus, and my cousin Teddy...who’s also Harry’s godson.”

The children all smiled, though Corvus edged himself slightly behind his twin. “Hello,” they said in unison.

“You were all in Slytherin, like cousin Draco, huh?” Teddy asked, his hair instantly turning green.

“Teddy! What have we said about changing your hair color in public?” Harry scolded, his eyes going around the park to make sure no one had seen.

“Oh. Sorry, Harry,” the boy said, managing to look only somewhat sheepish as he looked back at the newcomers expectantly—not bothering to change his hair back, because that might just draw further attention. “I’m in Hufflepuff...like my mum was. But you guys. Slytherin, right? What was it like?”

All three of Draco’s friends smiled indulgently.

“It was...brilliant,” Blaise answered, because no one else replied. And it had been...for the most part. Until things got hairy.

Frowning, Pansy looked to Draco to save them, because she really wasn’t ready for that conversation. But that’s not who stepped in—of course.

“All right. Enough about that,” Harry said. “How about we find out what’s in the picnic basket. Yeah?”

Their attention averted, the children grinned, then plopped down on the blanket to eat. And looking at him gratefully, Pansy sighed. “Still everyone’s savior, huh...Harry?”

~ o ~

After eating, the older boys went back to their game of football, Scorpius picked up his book again, and the three youngest tried valiantly to stay awake, but were soon napping on the blanket beside the five chatting adults. Mostly they talked about nothing in particular, all slightly uncomfortable and yet...at peace as well. It was odd.

Harry didn’t say much at first, preferring instead to listen—and evaluate—but he was eventually drawn in.

“So...Harry. I never actually apologized to you,” Pansy said quietly when the other three men were engaged in some other topic. “For trying to...you know. Hand you over,” she clarified, though she was well aware that the dark-haired man knew exactly what she was referring to. “I really am sorry about that. I was just—”

“Scared?” Harry supplied.

Pansy’s chin came up indignantly and she opened her mouth to deny it, then she surrendered and gave a clipped nod. “More like terrified,” she admitted.

Harry shrugged. “I always knew that, Pansy. We all were, you know...terrified as fuck!”

Pansy coughed, drawing the others’ eyes, but quickly waved them off and looked back at her friend’s husband. “Merlin, Potter, give a girl some warning before you use language like that,” she said. “Doesn’t fit the image I have of you.”

Harry smirked. “And what sort of image do you have of me?” he asked.

“I don’t know. A total berk, maybe,” said Pansy, flipping her hair and looking very much like she had when they were classmates. But then she amended her statement. “Back then anyway.”

Harry chuckled. “You guys were all such shits when we were kids, but I reckon we all were just trying to survive. Yeah?”

Pansy released a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding and nodded. “Well, thanks, I guess,” she said. “Although, for the record, your lot didn’t give us much of a chance.”

“I s’ppose not. Seems we all got off on the wrong foot...right from the off,” he said. “I was sort of busy though...trying to stay alive when that lunatic kept trying to kill me.”

“True. I know we didn’t make it any easier,” the woman said, “but...thanks for getting it and not continuing to hate us.”

Shrugging again, Harry smiled. “It’s not like I could continue to hold a grudge against Draco’s best mates, yeah?”

Pansy smiled.

“And, for the record, I never hated any of your lot. Not really,” he said. “I mean, I thought you were all a bunch of dicks, but hating isn’t really in my nature.”

“You’re a good person, Harry Potter,” she said. “I never realized it before, but you really are.”

Harry grinned. “Thanks! You’re not so bad yourself.”

Pansy grinned and, for some reason, she no longer looked pug-faced to Harry.

“Draco’s very lucky,” she added.

“As am I,” the dark-haired man said, his love-filled eyes shifting to his husband—who was chuckling at something Blaise had said—then returning to the woman. “We all deserve to be happy, yeah?”

She nodded. “I’d like to think so.”

“Hey,” Blaise interrupted, leaning over and bumping his shoulder into Pansy’s, then whispering, “as much as I’m loath to intrude on your maudlin exchange here, let’s take Scorpius over to the boys and give Draco and Greg some time to talk.”

Nodding, both Pansy and Harry got to their feet. “Come on, Scorp. Let’s join the boys’ game,” Harry called to the boy.

Scorpius frowned. “But I don’t like playing ball with them. They always kick it too hard,” he complained.

“I know you don’t,” Harry said to the four and a half year old as he knelt down next to him. “But I think dad and his friend need a moment.”

Scorpius eyed his other dad—and the larger man sitting next to him—then turned his gray eyes back on Harry and nodded reluctantly. Carefully, he marked his place in his book and put it aside, then got up and reached a hand out to his second father.

“Do I have to play?” he asked as they walked away from the blanket.

Harry chuckled, but it was Blaise who responded. “Naw, your Auntie Pansy’s not going to play either, so you don’t have to.”

His small hand clutching at Harry’s, Scropius glared at the dark-skinned man. “I’m not a girl!” he protested. “They’re just much bigger than I am.”

Blaise instantly held up his hands, as if surrendering. “Of course not. My mistake.”

Narrowing his eyes, Scorpius contemplated for a moment, then nodded. Then he frowned and looked up at Harry. “Aunt Pansy, daddy?”

Smiling, Harry nodded. “Just like Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione, yeah?”

Scorpius appeared to think it over, then he nodded. “And Uncle Blaise and Uncle Greg?” he asked.

“Exactly,” Harry said, plucking Scorpius’ faux spectacles off his face and stowing them in the boy’s shirt pocket.

Scorpius grinned—and Pansy wrinkled her turned up nose. “Uncle Weasley and Aunt Granger?” she queried, looking somewhat put out.

But Harry laughed. “Of course. If Draco’s friends are aunts and uncles, then doesn’t it reason that mine would be as well?” he asked.

“I suppose,” the woman drawled.

“And they’re married now, so it’s Ron and Hermione Weasley,” Harry corrected. “If you’d like us to use your given names, then maybe you could see fit to return the favor.”

At this Pansy huffed. “Fine.”

“It’s only fair,” Harry pushed.

“All right, Harry! I heard you,” she snapped—but Harry could tell she wasn’t upset at all. In fact, if her body language were to be believed, she was downright pleased.

And then she proved it. “I’m an aunt,” she said. “Auntie Pansy. I like the sound of that. Doesn’t that sound lovely, Uncle Blaise?”

The man chuckled. “If you say so, Aunt Pansy,” he quipped.

She sighed happily. “Hmm. I’m suddenly quite pleased with today.”

~ o ~

“You’ve done a great job, Draco,” Greg said sadly as he watched the older boys play with Blaise and Harry—with Pansy and Scorpius cheering them on from the sidelines. “Much better than I could have done.”

Draco blinked. He’d known it was coming—a talk about the children...or rather, Caelum—but it still felt odd. “They’re good kids,” he said with a shrug. “Caelum’s been a lot of help, you know...since it kept happening. Since I kept getting....” He let his words trail off, because he knew it wasn’t necessary to use the word ‘pregnant.’

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be there for you both.”

“It’s fine, Greg. We’re fine,” Draco said reassuringly, not mentioning that his friend couldn’t have been there or Draco would have gotten pregnant over and over again—not that he hadn’t anyway, as his three subsequent pregnancies proved.

If truth be told though, Draco was thankful his childhood friend hadn’t been around or Caelum wouldn’t be the child he was today. It was a horrible thing to think, he knew, and he didn’t dare say it, because it would have hurt the other man greatly and that was the last thing Draco wanted to do after all his friend had been through. “You know, you can come see him any time you’d like.”

Greg shook his head. “Thanks, but no. It would be too hard, I think.”

Draco nodded, but didn’t know what to say.

“I did some research,” Greg blurted.

“You researched this?” Draco said teasingly.

Greg chuckled. “Yeah. Odd, huh?”

“Just a little.”

“Mother insisted,” Greg said, rolling his eyes. “With Father gone she wanted me to go back to school...after the healers released me.”

“I think that’s great,” Draco said.

Greg nodded. “It was loads easier without Father breathing down my neck and...without the pressure of other things.”

“I hear you.”

“I actually did fairly well.”

“That’s fantastic, Greg.”

The larger man smiled. “Mother thought so too. Of course, she blames Hogwarts for my shoddy education.” He snorted—as did Draco—before continuing. “But then she pushed me to do the research about....”

Draco watched his friend look over at the boys and knew his eyes were on Caelum. Oh Merlin, this was hard, Draco thought, shifting uncomfortably and waiting for his friend to continue.

“I think she was hoping she had a grandchild,” Greg rasped with a heavy sigh. “Anyway, he’s not mine anymore. According to everything I found. Not even a tiny bit.”

Draco frowned, not sure if his friend was sad about it or relieved. “Well, no, he’s not,” Draco agreed, “but...you’re still the reason I have him. And Caelum knows it was your magical essence that created him...like Harry’s created both sets of twins.”

“It’s not the same though. Potter’s kids have bonded to him and shifted. They look like him now,” the big man said, his voice gruff—then explained how he knew this. “I saw pictures of them pre-Potter. Pansy sent me copies of the ones you sent her.”

Draco nodded. “Ahh, I see.”

“And Aria’s clearly bonded to him as well,” Greg went on. “She’s got your platinum hair, but she’s not quite as angular as you always were. And she has more color than you ever did. She’s a nice blend of you two. Though, her eyes look more like your mother’s.” Greg frowned. “It’s too late for that to happen with Caelum.”

“True. Has been for several years,” Draco said, feeling sick about it for his friend and glad for himself at the same time.

“It’s better this way though,” Greg said after a short pause. “You two are...much better looking than I am.”

Draco laughed. He absolutely agreed, but wouldn’t say so.

“And smarter.”

“I’m not so sure about Harry,” Draco interjected, trying to add some levity.

Greg grinned. “You are so full of shit, Draco, but...thanks for that.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Goyle,” Draco said straight-faced. “And I meant it, you can come over and see him any time. Harry and I have talked about this at length. He’s adopted them all, so they’re one hundred percent his and mine now, but neither of us wishes to keep you away. You are, after all, my friend.”

“I do appreciate that. We’ll see.”

“And it’s not too late for you to find someone and get married yourself...have a few kidlets of your own,” Draco added. “We’re only thirty.”

“Oh, Merlin, thirty! That’s hard to believe,” Greg said with a frown. “Not sure about having a family though.”

“Why not?” asked the blond.

Goyle continued to frown. “I’m...damaged.”

Draco shook his head. “We’re all damaged in some way or another, Greg. You just have to find a way to make yourself happy. Besides, children are healing. They make you feel young again.”

“Not according to my mother.”

“Times were different then,” Draco said with a shake of his head.

“I s’ppose.”

“And you definitely don’t want to be our parents,” Draco continued. “I’m not saying being a parent has been easy. Fuck! It’s been downright hell at times, but it’s also been great fun...especially now that I have Harry.” He grinned. “Except for the fact that he keeps talking about adding another one.”

Greg laughed. “Shit, Draco, don’t you think seven is enough?”

“Well, yes, but Harry has his heart set on eight, I guess. I told him he’d have to carry it if there was going to be another. He’s agreed, but he’s not actually said we should go for it. I think he’s waiting for me to give in, which is not going to happen!”

Laughing again, Greg nodded. “Don’t give in, Draco, you’ve had enough.”

“That’s what I think!”

“What do you think, love?” came another voice—and Draco smiled as he felt arms snake around his body and Harry’s chest press into his back. Knowing his chat with Greg was over, he leaned back into his husband.

“Oh, I think lots of things, dearest, but...are we ready to pack it in?” Draco asked, turning his head and offering Harry his mouth.

“I think so,” Harry said with a nod—and a kiss. “The girls are waking and will want food within the hour. Sirius is still out cold.” He then looked at Gregory Goyle and smiled. “Would you like to come back to ours for supper?”

“Um. I don’t know.” His eyes went to Draco’s, unsure whether to accept or decline.

“Oh, come on,” the blond said. “It’ll be fun. You can see the house and spend some time getting to know the children.”

Looking at Harry, Greg frowned. “You truly don’t mind?”

Harry shook his head. “Not in the least.”

Smiling, Greg nodded. “All right then. Thanks.”

~ o ~

Standing at Draco and Harry’s Floo—preparing to leave—Greg Goyle turned and smiled at them. “I had a great time. Thanks.”

Nodding, Harry returned the man’s smile. “You’re welcome,” he said, holding out his hand and allowing it to be engulfed by larger man’s—Goyle may not be as large as he once was, but he was still quite big; much more so than Harry and...his hands were huge. “Now, if you’ll both excuse me,” Harry continued, “I’m going to head upstairs.”

Both Draco and Greg nodded, then Greg spoke. “See you next time, Potter,” he rasped—then he cleared his throat and corrected himself. “Harry.”

Harry smiled, nodded, then gave a wave and was on his way to the stairs.

Watching Harry, until he was out of sight, the two long-time friends faced each other again.

“I meant it, Draco. This was great.”

“Yeah, it really was,” agreed the blond. It had been much too long since he’d seen his friend.

“And Harry,” Greg went on, “he’s...much different than I though he’d be. I think we didn’t give him enough credit. Back in the day.”

Draco nodded. “I agree, but....” He shrugged. “It’s not like any of us had a choice.”

“Right. Anyway, I’m gonna go,” Greg said. “Thanks again.”

“Night,” Draco said as he friend stepped into the Floo and was gone.

For a moment the blond just stood there staring at the empty Floo, then he turned and made his way to the stairs. It was late and Harry was waiting for him upstairs—and, with any hope, his husband was naked and prepared to be pounded into the mattress.

But he wasn’t. Instead, Draco’s husband was in Caelum’s bedroom, lying on his side facing their eldest.

“Dad’s friend is not going to be another father!” the boy was saying adamantly. “You adopted me! I’m yours!”

The dark-haired man reached over and touched Caelum’s head, then fiddled with his long-ish blond hair. “Yes, you are mine, Cael. No one’s saying otherwise.”

“But...why was he here? I don’t want another dad,” the blond insisted.

Harry chuckled. “And you’re not getting another dad, son,” he said sympathetically. “I promise. Greg was just here to visit. He wanted to meet you...and see your dad, because they were friends since they were kids and he hasn’t seen him in more than ten years.”

Caelum frowned skeptically. “I don’t have to go with him?”

Harry shook his head. “Not if you don’t want to.”

“Ever?”

“Ever.”

“Promise?”

“I promise,” Harry said emphatically.

“He’s not my dad?”

Smiling, Harry shook his head again. “No. You remember what Hermione told you, right? That Greg’s magical essence was used to create you, because of the rare condition your dad had, but that, since Greg wasn’t around at all when you were little, you no longer have even the slightest bit of his magical signature within you. You’re now one hundred percent Draco.”

The ten-year-old nodded. “I remember.”

“And you understand?”

“Yes, but...why was he here...if I’m not his?”

“I told you. He wanted to meet you and see your dad. Is that a bad thing?”

Caelum frowned, then shrugged. “Guess not. It’s just....I was worried...that he’d try to take me away from you.”

“That’s not gonna happen, Cael,” Harry said. “Okay?”

Smiling, Caelum nodded. “Just so you know, I’m glad it’s the way it is, because...you’re my dad.”

“And we’ve got the paperwork to prove it,” Harry reminded him, poking him playfully in the chest.

Caelum grinned brightly. “Yeah.” But then he frowned again. “I’m wondering though...why’d Greg wait ten years to come see me?”

Harry sighed. “Well, it’s mostly because he was pretty sick after the war. You remember all the things we’ve told you about the war, right?”

Caelum nodded slowly, then touched his own left forearm. “Dad’s got that mark from Old Moldy Voldy.”

Laughing, Harry nodded—and Draco smiled in the doorway; Harry usually made up ridiculously silly names for the Dark Lord when talking about him in front of the children. “Yes. The Mark. Greg has one too. They were...manipulated and forced into doing a lot of things they didn’t want to do. And they lost a friend too. Their hearts were broken and Greg had a harder time than most healing from it all.”

“Vincent,” said Caelum. “I’m named after him. My middle name.”

Harry nodded. “Caelum Vincentius Malfoy-Potter.”

“But not after Greg Goyle. That seems...odd.”

Harry shrugged. “I think your dad wanted to honor the friend he’d lost in the war.”

Caelum nodded. “I get it.”

“Good,” said Harry, relieved.

“So, he was too sick in the head to come see us?”

“Yes. It was partly that.”

“But he’s not now.”

“He looks well enough to me.”

“And he doesn’t want to take me away from you and dad?”

Harry shook his head. “Absolutely not.”

“Okay.”

“Why else did he stay away?” the blond boy pushed.

“Well, because of your dad’s condition. He couldn’t be around wizards, remember?”

Caelum bobbed his head. “Yeah. Didn’t work too well though,” he said with a snorting laugh. “They kept finding him anyway.”

“Yeah, we did,” Harry said with a laugh and a grin.

“I’m glad though...that you were the copper who came to our door that night,” Caelum said. “Do you miss being a cop?”

“Not at all,” answered Harry as he roughed up the blond’s hair. “Now, it’s late and time to get some shut-eye, I think.”

“All right. Good night, dad. I love you.”

Leaning forward, Harry kissed Caelum’s forehead. “Love you too, Cael. Night,” he said, standing and moving to the door. After closing the door, he saw his husband sitting on the stairs, upset.

“I didn’t think that this might frighten him,” Draco said. He was frowning.

Reaching out, Harry pulled Draco to his feet and held him. “He’s fine. Just needed some reassurance.”

“You think that’s all?”

Stepping back, Harry shrugged. “We’ll have to keep an eye on him and make sure he knows that we’re his dads and that that’s not going to change no matter what.”

Draco nodded. “You’re right.”

“Of course, I am,” Harry said as he leaned forward again and kissed Draco, then took his hand to lead him upstairs. “Now, like I said to Caelum, it’s late. I think we’re both a little tired and stressed from today, so let’s go up to our room and find a way to release some of this pent up...pressure. Yeah?”

Chuckling, Draco squeezed Harry’s hand and followed. “Now that’s the kind of day’s end I could use right about now.”

Harry snorted. “That’s how we end every day, you git.”

And it was true; most days ended—and began—with them fucking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spent yesterday at Universal Hollywood with friends (RL and online...one of them all the way from Austria)...at Hogsmeade and Hogwarts...dressed to the nines with Hufflepuff pride! Had lunch at The Three Broomsticks and just enjoyed the day! It drizzled a bit, but the day was PERFECT! Light show after dark was sooo lovely! You'll probably never see this, Winky, but thank you sooo much for joining us! xoxo
> 
> So...today it's POURING here in Southern California!!! Thank Merlin it only drizzled yesterday!


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * time skip (1 year, 1 month, 3 weeks, 1 day)  
> * impatience and pestering  
> * sorting

Next Generation at Hogwarts  
Caelum (first of seven)  
Thursday, 1 September 2011

~ o ~

“DADS!” bellowed Caelum from the third floor stairwell, up to his fathers’ bedroom above. “Let’s get the show on the road here! I don’t wanna to miss the train!”

“Coming,” Harry called out, chuckling as he buttoned up his shirt, tucked it into his denims, then zipped them closed. “Impatient much?” he mumbled, his eyes going to Draco. “No idea where he got that trait.”

Giving himself one last once-over in his full-length mirror, Draco smirked as he turned and looked at his husband. “No more than you or I were, once upon a time. Plus, he’s probably quite mortified that we took the time for sex on the morning of his big day.”

Harry blushed. “We had plenty of time; he’s just being...eager.”

Laughing, the blond moved toward Harry, wrapped him in his arms, then kissed his forehead. “Shall we discuss eagerness, love?” he asked, pushing their groins together. They’d only just finished their second fuck of the morning and already they were both feeling lustful again. “Merlin, Potter, what are we going to do with us? We’ve been horny nearly twenty-four seven for the last four years now.”

The dark-haired man grinned, then ground his hips into Draco’s and started to snog him senseless.

“Really? You’re at it again?” came a voice from the doorway, causing the two men to separate their mouths—if not their bodies—then turn dazed expressions on their eldest child, who was eleven and starting Hogwarts today. “Merlin, you two are like a couple of randy teenagers!” the boy said somewhat disgustedly.

Harry frowned. “Where’d you hear that term?” he asked, embarrassed.

Caelum shrugged. “I heard Aunt Hermione talking to...I don’t know, one of the other aunts,” he admitted.

Draco laughed again. “There are a lot of them Weasley aunties,” he said, thinking of Harry’s massive extended family.

Harry shot his husband a that’s hardly the point look and eyed their son. “Hermione said that about us?” It was true, of course, but odd to hear that Hermione was gossiping.

Caelum nodded emphatically. “Yes. She did. Can you blame her?!”

Harry just frowned.

“Now, before we miss the train altogether, can we go please?!”

Smiling, Draco looked at their boy and nodded. “We’ll be right down, Caelum,” he said as he reached out and picked up Harry’s robes, then handed them to the other man. “Go wait by the Floo for Teddy to arrive.”

“Teddy’s already here!” the eleven-year-old whinged, exasperated by his fathers’ frittering. “He’s been here for nearly a quarter hour.”

Draco frowned and looked at his watch, then turned and started straightening the robes his husband had slipped in. “All right. We’ll hurry.”

“Promise?”

“That’s enough, Caelum,” Draco said sternly. “If you keep pestering us, we’ll never be ready.”

Huffing, Caelum left.

“I can’t believe Hermione was talking about our sex life,” Harry said, shaking his head. “And, in front of the children.”

Draco rolled his eyes. “They’re all just jealous because we fuck like rabbits and none of them ever gets any.”

“You think?”

“Definitely. And there’s nothing wrong with the kids knowing we have a healthy libido,” he said, giving Harry’s robes one last brush, then smiling. “You look perfect. Now, we should go, before our son has a coronary and we have to take him to St Mungo’s instead of King’s Cross Station.”

Harry nodded. “All right then, I’m ready.”

~ o ~

After saying goodbye to their three youngest children—they were leaving Aria, Sirius, and Lyra home with Grandmere Malfoy—they shuffled outside and into their vehicle.

“Teddy, pick one hair color until we’ve gotten onto the platform, then you can change it as often as you’d like,” Harry said, after seeing his godson go through four colors as they walked from their flat to the car.

“Sorry Harry,” the boy said—just as Draco’s forehead pinched up. “I still don’t understand why we have to take this Muggle contraption. Have you read the articles in that Muggle paper about the accidents? These things are...dangerous.”

Harry chuckled. “No more than any other mode of transportation, Draco. And, with so many of us and the boys’ trunks, this is easier,” he said as he strapped Scorpius in and checked the seat belts of the others.

“Dad. We’re fine. Get in or we’re going to be late,” Caelum instructed.

Silently, Draco did get into the car, but not without trepidation. He hated Harry’s Muggle vehicle.

But, before he knew it, they were parking at King’s Cross Station and heading in—and Caelum was nearly bouncing off the walls, in his excitement.

And then they were through the barrier and on the platform.

“Look! There’s Uncle Bill and Aunt Fleur. Victoire!” he shouted. Then, grabbing Teddy’s hand, the two boys ran off while Draco and Harry went forward more slowly.

“I can’t believe we’re here. That he’s already eleven,” Draco said quietly.

Reaching out, Harry took his husband’s hand. “I know, right? I missed so much and now he’s leaving us.”

“When can we go to Hogwarts, Daddy?” Orion interrupted.

Smiling down at one of their eight-year-olds, Harry squeezed the hand that had slipped into his empty one. “A few years yet, for you, Rion. Three more.”

Orion pouted, but Corvus looked relieved.

It only took them a moment to reach Bill and Fleur Weasley. Fleur was busy tending to a tearful Dominique—who clearly didn’t want her sister to leave—but Bill immediately reached out and shook first Harry’s hand and then Draco’s.

“Good to see you two,” the red-haired man greeted.

“Trouble?” Harry asked, eyeing Dominique’s meltdown.

Bill shrugged. “Probably should have left her at the Burrow with mum with Louis.”

Harry nodded. “We left the others with Narcissa, but the boys wanted to come say goodbye. I reckon the first one’s the hardest. Yeah?”

Bill nodded. “For us and the younger ones apparently,” he said, his eyes on Orion, who looked nearly as upset as Dominique, but without the tears. Though it appeared the boy was more jealous than anything else.

“They’ll have their day,” Draco said. Not having siblings, he didn’t quite understand what all the fuss was about. Though, neither did Harry and he seemed to get it.

“That they will,” Bill agreed. As the oldest child of Arthur and Molly Weasley, Bill might not get it either, since he was the first to leave his siblings and didn’t have to watch any of them go off without him.

“Good Morning, Draco. ‘Arry,” Fleur said, looking flustered—then to Bill, “I’m going to zay my goodbyes to Victorie, zen Apparate back to ze Burrow. Zis one is completely out of zorts.”

Her husband nodded. “I’m going straight to work after this,” he said, kissing his wife’s cheek. “You’ll be all right?”

She nodded. “Of course.” Then, giving both Draco and Harry a regretful smile, she whisked Dominique away.

“Sorry about that,” Bill said when she was gone. “Dom’s not quite so happy about her sister going away for nearly a year. Doesn’t seem to get that she’ll get more attention with her sister gone.”

Draco and Harry shrugged. “No worries,” the dark-haired man said. “We have these things happen in our house too.”

Bill snorted. “Right. I’ve seen how utterly well-behaved your little yous are. It’s disgusting.”

Draco preened a bit, proud that his and Harry’s children didn’t cause a ruckus. “Poorly behaved children are a direct reflection on the parents.”

Bill laughed. “Git.”

Draco grinned. “Can I help it if ours are—”

“Draco,” Harry interrupted, his tone full of warning as his elbow nudged into his husband’s ribs. “Shush.”

And then Caelum was at their side once again, a worried frown on his face as he looked up at his fathers.

“I just got to thinking,” the boy said quietly, once both Draco and Harry had knelt down to his level. “What if I’m sorted and that House doesn’t like me? What if the hat makes a mistake?”

Harry smiled, then reached out and gently smoothed back their oldest’s long-ish blond hair. “I wouldn’t worry about that. The hat always knows where to put you.”

Caelum frowned. “But...you told me it wanted to put you in Slytherin, Dad, but that you didn’t want to go there.”

Harry glanced at Draco, then back at their son. “Yeah, and it put me in Gryffindor instead. No harm done,” Harry said with a shrug. “But there’s nothing wrong with Slytherin. If you end up in Slytherin, we’ll be equally proud of you.”

“Promise?”

Both Draco and Harry grinned. “Promise,” they said in unison.

“Any House will do,” Draco added.

“Even Hufflepuff?” he pushed, his eyes going to his blond father for this one.

Draco laughed. “Of course.”

“Because, Teddy’s in Hufflepuff, so I might like being there with him, but I wouldn’t want to disappoint you...either of you.”

“You couldn’t possibly disappoint us,” Draco said reassuringly.

“Are you sure?” the boy pushed.

“Yep,” Harry said with a nod. “Hufflepuff’s a fine House. And near the kitchens. I hear they have a near constant supply of snacks there.”

Caelum grinned. “All right. Good. Mind you, I’m not going to try to manipulate my sorting,” he said. “I just wanted to know what you both thought. I do want to be wherever the hat thinks I should be. Seems like that’s for the best, yeah?”

“Definitely,” Draco said as Harry roughed up Caelum’s already intentionally untidy hair and said, “absolutely.”

“So...just to be one hundred percent clear,” the boy continued, his eyes going to his blond father, “if I end up in Gryffindor, you’ll be okay with it?”

Smiling indulgently, Draco nodded. “One hundred percent okay.”

“And, if I sorted into Slytherin, you’ll be fine with it?” Caelum asked his dark-haired father.

Nodding, Harry smiled. “Scared?”

Caelum snorted, “You wish! I just don’t want to come home for the holidays and find you two bickering over what House I’m in.”

His fathers grinned. “We’ll keep our bickering to a minimum,” Harry said. “Promise.”

“And behind closed doors,” Draco added.

“Ew!” Caelum burst, pulling a face. “I do not want to hear about your closed doors, Dads! I’m going to miss you both, but I’m not going to miss that part!”

And then the Hogwarts Express was blowing its whistle. It was time to go.

“Come on, Caelum!” Victorie squealed, jumping up and down beside him.

Grinning, Caelum looked at his fathers one last time, then turned and ran to get onboard before the train left without him.

“Send us an owl,” Harry called out. “We’d still like to know, no matter what.”

“I will,” Caelum promised—then yelled, “Bye Cory, Rion, Score” as he scrambled onto the train—and then he was gone and the Hogwarts Express was on its way.

~ o ~

Dear Dads,

Well, I have to admit was a little surprised by my  
sorting, but...I ended up in Gryffindor! I hope that’s  
truly all right with you, Dad. I think maybe you had your  
heart set on Slytherin for me. I promise I didn’t tell the  
hat to put me into Gryffindor, but it did so anyway. It  
seemed to need to think it over for a while. A long while,  
actually. It even talked about you, saying you were quick and  
easy to place. That no other House would have been  
right for you. Curious. Then it settled on Gryffindor for me. I  
don’t think Slytherin was even a consideration (nor was  
Ravenclaw). That’s fine, right? I hope so, because I  
think the hat is right. I’m a lion like dad! I hope Grandfather  
isn’t too disappointed in me.

So, it mentioned you too, Dad(dy). It almost felt like it was  
poking through my head. Did it feel like that for you  
too? The hat said you were ‘particularly difficult to  
place,’ then said that, despite my biological background,  
I was mostly Gryffindor. Also said I’d do well in  
Hufflepuff. I almost told it to put me there...just so I  
could be with Teddy...then I remembered that I’d said I  
wouldn’t manipulate my sorting. I’m sad that I won’t  
have Teddy in my Common Room, but...I think I’m  
going to love Gryffindor! Would you make sure dad’s not  
too upset? I know you both said any House would be  
fine, but...yeah.

Oh! Victorie got sorted into Ravenclaw! First Weasley  
ever to not go into Gryffindor, yeah? But I’m not at all  
surprised. I hope Grandma Molly doesn’t go spare over  
it though. Lol.

Anyway, love you both.

Love Always,  
Caelum Vincentius Malfoy-Potter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget to tell me what you think...


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * time skip (3 years)  
> * clumsiness (Teddy)  
> * rude gesture and scolding  
> * kids defending their dads  
> * smut  
> * old friends  
> * sortings

Next Generation at Hogwarts  
Orion & Corvus (second/third of seven)  
Monday, 1 September 2014

~ o ~

Coming through the Malfoy-Potter Floo, sixteen-year-old Teddy stumbled then fell, landing right next to Caelum on the sofa, grinning goofily up at his cousin as he lay sprawled there, his hair going from bright blue to a flushed fuchsia to a glittering gold, then to his everyday turquoise, causing his much younger females cousins to giggle.

“Teddy!” Aria and Lyra squealed at the same moment, getting up and throwing themselves on top of him.

“Hiya, girls,” he responded, hugging them both without getting up off his back.

And then the Floo flared green and two more came through—Andromeda Tonks-Weasley and Arnold Weasley, her husband of five years now. “I swear to Salazar that you have all the grace of your mother, Teddy Lupin,” she criticized, causing the man standing next to her to chuckle.

Teddy grinned from his near upside down position on the sofa. “I meant to do that, of course,” he quipped, then pushed his girl cousins off of him and sat up.

Andromeda snorted. “I’m sure,” she drawled, glancing around, then frowning. “Where in Merlin’s name are your fathers?” she asked the oldest Malfoy-Potter child.

Instantly, all eight children sitting in the room pointed upward, letting the older woman know that neither Draco nor Harry had come downstairs yet.

“Un-believable!” she said. “Those two are like—”

“Bunnies?” Caelum offered.

Andromeda gave the fourteen-year-old boy a scathing look, then said, “Are you four ready to leave?”

Four heads bobbed. “Don’t worry, Aunt Dromeda,” Orion said. “We’re never late for anything. Punctuality is one of dad’s highest priorities. They’ll be down in time.”

Rolling his eyes, Teddy looked at Caelum and made a rude gesture—causing Caelum to snicker—then quickly tried to hide it when his grandmother looked over at him, glaring.

“Edward. Remus. Lupin!” the older woman ground out angrily. “You will not do such things in front of your younger cousins!”

Teddy tried, and failed, to look abashed—but Caelum snickered again, then made an attempt to give the woman a straight face. Then he too failed and burst out laughing. “Ahh, Aunt Dromeda, we’re all quite aware of what our dad’s are doing up there.”

Even Corvus, who was still fairly shy, grinned. “They’ve never kept it a secret,” he added from his place on the oversized chair he was currently sharing with his twin.

“Sort of a running joke in the house,” Orion said with a shrug. “We’re fine with it.”

“Actually, I think we’d worry if they weren’t...you know,” Caelum added.

“See, Gran,” Teddy said, “it’s all good.”

“Alrighty then,” Andromeda’s husband said with a smile—but his wife glared at her grandson.

“Teddy, you may be approaching adulthood, but I still expect you to be a good example for the younger ones,” she informed the still-teenaged boy, “regardless of how open Draco and Harry are with their children. Do you understand me?”

Teddy instantly nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Good!”

And then two others stepped fluidly through the Floo, taking only a moment to look around the room and take in the scene, then frowning. “Where are Draco and Harry?” asked Narcissa—causing her husband to scowl knowingly; after seven years of his son being with Potter, Lucius had no doubts as to what the two were up to.

“Don’t even ask,” Andromeda said, shaking her head. “Those two....” She waved a hand.

Pursing her lips, Narcissa pulled out her wand and gave it a wave, conjuring her Patronus—a skunk—and sending it up to her son and son-in-law’s bedroom, with every hope of interrupting their shenanigans.

“Absolutely disgusting,” Lucius Malfoy hissed under his breath—but it didn’t go unheard.

“That’s not very nice, Grandfather,” seven-year-old Aria scolded, sneering up at the older man in a very Malfoy-like manner.

“Yeah, our dads love each other,” Lyra added, looking up at the man angrily as well.

Andromeda chortled a laugh. “Better watch out, Lucius,” she said. “I think they could take you.”

The man scoffed, but then seemed to change his mind. “My apologies, children. I am just not used to such things.”

Glancing up from his seat on the opposite side of the room, Scorpius frowned over the top of his spectacles. “You seem far too...aged...to not understand the workings of procreation, Grandfather.”

Lucius Malfoy blinked. “I do beg your pardon,” he said, insulted by his grandson’s words.

The room was silent for a moment—then Narcissa smiled and brought her hands together against her chest. “They’re...trying for another child?”

Caelum nodded. “Have been. For about a year now. Uncle Chuck-n-Charlie told them it’s not always so easy the...er...conventional way.” He frowned at his wording, knowing that it was somewhat off when referring to two men trying to conceive. “Well, you know what I mean. Anyway, yeah. Seems seven isn’t quite enough for them after all.”

Arnold Weasley chuckled—gaining him a glare from Lucius Malfoy.

“Lovely,” Lucius drawled. “Just what the world needs, more little Malfoy-Potters running around.”

“Well, we think it’s brilliant,” Sirius put in, gesturing between himself and his twin sister. “We’re tired of being the youngest.”

Nodding her agreement, Lyra eyed her grandfather. “Don’t you like us?” she asked the man, putting him on the spot.

This caused all eyes to swing to the Malfoy patriarch—causing the man to clench his jaw before responding.

“Of course, I like you,” he said stiffly. “I was merely remarking on the fact that your fathers have had more children than one family should be permitted to have. And that, there is...only so much space in our world. One should save some space for others. Like your grandmother and I did...back in our time.”

Several eyes rolled.

“You keep telling yourself that, Malfoy,” Arnold Weasley said with a snort.

“This is none of your concern, Weasley,” Lucius returned. He didn’t seem to like Arnold Weasley any more than the liked Arthur Weasley and it showed.

“All right! That’s enough!” both Andromeda and Narcissa interrupted at exactly the same moment.

~ o ~

Harry had just climaxed—all over Draco’s heaving chest—when his mother-in-law’s Patronus glided into their bedroom, causing both men to startle. If only for a millisecond, before continuing their fun.

“Don’t stop!” the blond man growled, his hands tightening on Harry’s hips—fingers digging in hard enough to bruise—as he pushed up into his husband’s body. “Almost there!”

Harry tried to focus on the task at hand—getting himself impregnated—and pushed down, repeatedly impaling himself on Draco’s cock.

“Ah. Right there!” the dark-haired man burst, feeling his own member jolt back to life as Draco hit his prostate over and over again. “I think. OH! Yes. Again!” he ordered, grinning euphorically as he took himself in hand again and stroked in time with Draco’s deep probing thrusts. It had been a while since Harry’d come twice without the benefit of some sort of resting period in between their sessions, but this was as good a time as any for multiple orgasms.

“Almost,” he moaned.

“Hurry!” the blond groaned, then gritted his teeth. “I can’t. Hold off. Much longer.”

And then Harry felt a twisting, tingling low in his pelvic area just before convulsing wildly through his second climax. “Fuck!” he burst, slumping forward onto Draco’s body.

But Draco wasn’t quite finished yet. In a flash he’d reversed their positions, flipping his husband to his back, then pushing in once...twice...a third time, before shooting all that his bollocks contained into the man he loved—then collapsing down upon him.

“That was...brilliant,” Harry said, his eyes slightly glazed over as he tried to regulate his breathing.

Draco chuckled. “Yeah. It was,” he agreed, still lying on Harry’s chest and feeling utterly boneless.

“We need to get up.”

“Indeed.”

“Your parents are here,” Harry reminded his husband, though he made no attempt to move.

Draco groaned. “Don’t mention my parents when we’re in bed,” he said.

“And I bet Teddy’s here too...with Andromeda.”

Huffing, Draco wiggled his hips just enough to allow his now flaccid cock to slip from Harry’s body, then he pressed a kiss into the man’s neck. “You are evil. Bringing up family while we’re fucking is not a turn on.”

Harry laughed. “I think our fucking is done. I need to clean up.”

“We both do,” the blond said as he rolled to his back, then touched his sticky chest—then brought his finger to his mouth and tasted their combined essence, then licked his finger clean.

Watching his husband, Harry smirked. “Enjoying yourself?” he asked.

“You taste divine.”

Harry chuckled. “Are you quite finished?”

“For now.”

Waving a hand, Harry wandlessly Vanished their apparently tasty mess, then let his hand drop back to the bed.

Draco frowned. “You didn’t...Vanish that out of you, did you?” he asked. They were, after all, trying to conceive another child—not that they needed more offspring.

Harry rolled his eyes. “Of course not. I’m not that daft.”

“Just making sure.”

“And so I get to walk around feeling...swishy...for a while,” the dark-haired man said, his nose wrinkled up slightly.

Draco laughed. “It’s all for the greater good.” Then he laughed again when he saw Harry’s green eyes roll.

“True,” he said, then waved his hand again, casting a spell to keep Draco’s seed from seeping from his body—at least until he had to use the toilet the next time.

“Do you have any idea how hot that is?” Draco asked, turning his head and looking at his husband. “The wandless magic.”

Harry snorted. “We are not giving it another go. I think my arse would split in two if we tried.”

Grinning, Draco slowly moved to get up. “I’m going to jump in the shower.”

Harry looked at the clock. “You don’t have time,” he said. “Besides, you are not leaving me to deal with everyone downstairs by myself.”

“What sort of Gryffindor are you?” asked Draco. “No bravery, whatsoever!”

Harry laughed. “The sort who doesn’t wish to deal with your father’s scrutiny all by his lonesome.”

Sighing, Draco cast a cleansing charm on himself—instead of heading to the bathroom—then started dressing. “I hate cleaning spells. They leave you feeling...scratchy.”

Getting up, Harry did the same, then quickly dressed. “We’ll shower later...together.”

Draco grinned. “Promise?”

“Absolutely. Just...we need to give my arse a rest. This twice in the mornings and two or three more times throughout the day is killing me.”

Draco nodded. “Right. I get it. It’s my turn to bottom.”

Relieved, Harry sighed. They were trying to get him pregnant, but he definitely needed some recovery time.

Quickly, they finished putting themselves together and joined the others in the lounge.

~ o ~

Platform Nine and Three-Quarters was bustling with activity—same as always—so they didn’t immediately spot anyone they knew. But they were fairly busy with their four, so it didn’t really matter.

And then Neville Longbottom walked up to them. “Hey Harry. Malfoy,” he greeted pleasantly. “I mean...er...Draco.”

“What’re you doing here, Neville?” Harry asked.

“Just came from visiting the folks one last time before the term started,” he answered. “Thought I’d take the train back up to Hogsmeade with all the kids. I miss it at times, don’t you?”

Harry grinned. “I little,” he said—at the same time that Draco scoffed and said, “Not at all.”

“So, how’re things? How’s Hannah?” Harry asked his old friend.

Neville grinned. “We’re good. Pregnant again.”

Beside them, Caelum snorted. “Our dads are working on that again too,” he informed his Herbology professor.

“CAELUM!” Draco and Harry burst with irritation.

“What? It’s true,” the boy said innocently. “You two are going at it constantly. Oh look. There’s Victoire. VICTOIRE!” he shouted, then grabbed Teddy’s arm and tugged on it. Teddy seemed a bit reluctant—as if the fourteen-year-old girl was suddenly beneath him—but went with his cousin anyway. Orion and Corvus, of course, followed.

Neville laughed. “Another one?” he queried, his eyes going from the exuberant boys to Draco.

“Don’t look at me,” the blond man said, holding his hands up as if he were warding off even the thought of another child growing within his body. “Harry’s going to incubate this one.

“We weren’t going to tell anyone though, until I was actually with child,” Harry said, “but our little monsters let the cat out of the bag this morning. Announced it to the entire household. Draco’s parents included.”

“Eesh,” Neville said, wrinkling up his nose. “Bet that went over well.”

Draco frowned. “Not really. Well, mother seemed pleased, but father...not so much.”

Neville chuckled. “I can imagine.”

“We’ll see though,” Harry said. “We’ve actually been trying for about a year now, so....”

Draco huffed. “Could we keep our bedroom activities and reproduction business to ourselves please, Potter?”

Smiling sheepishly, Harry leaned over and kissed his husband’s cheek, then linked their fingers and brought them to his lips to kiss lovingly. “Sorry, darling. I wasn’t thinking.”

Draco flushed, feeling pleasure at the attention, then sighed and looked at Neville Longbottom. “Potter’s not changed much...with the lack of thinking.”

Neville laughed. “You two are quite the pair,” he said—then craned his neck and squinted. “Oh look. Isn’t that Theo Nott and his wife?”

Turning, Draco and Harry both nodded. “It is,” the blond man said, a slight frown on his face. “Theo disappeared after the war, but Pansy did mention she’d heard he’d married. A Ravenclaw. Alannis something.”

“Sheppley,” Neville provided—then explained his knowledge. “Her parents own a cottage on the outskirts of Hogsmeade Village. Nice couple. Anyway, they have two boys and a girl, I think. The oldest one must be starting Hogwarts today with your twins. I should have looked at McGonagall’s list of incoming students, but I was thinking about my parents instead.

Still looking down the platform at his old dorm mate, Draco frowned. “Hmm.”

“Would you like to go say hello, Draco?” Harry asked, seeing the wistful look in his husband’s gray eyes.

“Do you think I should?”

Harry nodded. “Of course. Enough time has passed, hasn’t it?”

“I suppose.”

“Well, I’ll see you two soon, I hope,” Neville said. “Any time you’d like to come up to the castle, just let me know. McGonagall’s pretty open about letting visitors come. Plus, I bet she’d love to see you guys. Or we could meet in Hogsmeade.”

“Okay, Neville. Thanks,” Harry said, grinning—then squeezing Draco’s hand and giving it a little tug. “Come on, love, let’s go talk to Nott.”

Draco nodded and allowed himself to be pulled, but got more and more nervous as they approached his old friend.

“Malfoy. Potter,” Theo greeted stiffly when they stopped in front of him. “Or wait. I heard...it’s Malfoy-Potter now.” He smirked.

“It is,” Harry answered when Draco didn’t say anything right away. “But we prefer just Draco and Harry.”

Theo Nott narrowed his eyes slightly, then gave a nod. “Right. And this is my wife, Alannis,” he returned politely. “Alannis, this is Draco, my former Housemate, and the infamous Harry Potter. Excuse me, Draco and Harry Malfoy-Potter,” he corrected himself.

Smiling, the woman stepped forward and extended a hand. “So pleased to meet you both,” she said, looking from one man to the other. “I’ve heard and read so many things about you two.”

Harry laughed, then took and kissed the woman’s proffered hand. “I hope you don’t believe everything you read,” he said. “Such nonsense, those papers.”

Alannis chortled an amused laugh and flipped her blonde hair over her shoulder. “Of course not. That I know from experience,” she said, turning her dark eyes on Harry’s beautiful husband. “Draco, I feel like I know you already.”

And then Draco seemed to find his voice. “Hmm. As Harry said, don’t believe everything you’ve heard.”

The woman laughed again. “I’m quite capable of differentiating between truth and lies, but...thanks,” she said as she offered her hand to the blond man.

Draco smiled and took her hand, then kissed it because he knew she expected it. “It’s a pleasure to meet you too, Alannis,” he said. “We apparently have children the same age.”

She nodded. “Yes. Reagan starts this term, Thaddeus next, and Adora in a few years. Tell me, what Houses are you betting on for yours?”

Draco glanced at his former dorm mate—Theo’s features were completely unreadable—then back at the man’s smiling wife. “Our oldest sorted into Gryffindor three terms back,” he said, holding his head high—then waited a moment, expecting to hear a snort emanate from Theo. When he heard nothing, however, he continued. “This term our twins will be sorted.” He gave a nod in the direction of their boys. “They’re just there, next to the boy with the blue-ish hair.”

Theo and Alannis Nott turned and looked. “The blue-haired kid your oldest?” Theo asked curiously.

“No, he’s my cousin’s kid...and Harry’s godson. Our oldest is...” Draco frowned and looked around, then realized Caelum had been kneeling behind the others, digging around in his carry-on bag. “There he is. He’s the blond one.”

“Doesn’t look much like Goyle,” Theo said, then cleared his throat. “If rumors are to be believed.”

Draco blinked, surprised the other man would even bring up the subject. “It is true that Caelum was created by Greg’s magic, but...Caelum isn’t Greg’s son. Not after all this time. Biologically, he is one hundred percent mine. And Harry’s as well since Harry legally adopted him.”

“That’s quite fascinating,” Alannis interjected. “I’ve read about your condition, Draco, but I haven’t actually met someone with it...until now. I’m a medi-witch. I’ve been practicing in the States where we’ve been living. Appears you’ve managed to stave off that sort of magic now though. Or you’d not be out among wizards. Congratulations.”

Draco nodded. “Yes. Bonding with Harry put an end to it all, but...not until after he’d knocked me up again.”

Harry laughed. “Now who’s blathering on about matters of reproduction?”

“Sorry, darling, I wasn’t thinking,” Draco quipped, copying what Harry’d said not ten minutes before.

“So...Gryffindor, huh?” Theo said, his tone even, without any sort of opinion evident in it.

Both Draco and Harry nodded.

“And the twins. What’s your guess for them?” the man pushed, his gaze going back over to the group of Malfoy-Potter boys.

Draco frowned. “I’m not really sure about Orion, but....” He glanced at Harry and shrugged.

“Hufflepuff for Corvus,” Harry said. “I’d bet on it.

Draco nodded. “I think so too.”

Theo let out a relieved breath. “Father would roll over in his grave, but...I think Reagan will be sorted into Hufflepuff as well.”

“Worse things have been known to happen,” Harry said. “I mean, they could have a madman after them each term.”

Theo laughed. “True that.”

“We’ll see, I guess,” Alannis Nott said.

The three men smiled. “That we will,” one of them replied.

“Anyway, I’m going to go check on Reagan, but it was wonderful to meet you both,” she said. “Maybe the four of us could get together for a meal sometime?”

Draco nodded. “That would be...very nice.”

“Good to see you, Draco,” Theo said, then looked at the man’s husband. “You too, Harry.” And then he followed his wife.

“Well, that was interesting.”

Draco nodded. “Very. Let’s see to the boys.” His eyes were on his watch. “I’d just like to make sure Corvus is all right.”

“He’s fine, Draco. If we’re right and he’s sorted into Hufflepuff, then he’s nearly as tough as a Gryffindor.”

“True. Badger on and all that rot.”

Harry rolled his eyes as they started in the direction of their boys.

“Look, it’s the parental units,” Teddy said as they neared.

“Dads!” Caelum greeted them. “Teddy and I are getting on the train now, but we told Orion and Corvus we should all say goodbye first.”

Harry roughed up Caelum’s hair, then Teddy’s, then knelt down in front of the twins. And Draco, standing next to him, placed a hand on Harry’s shoulder.

“Any questions, boys?”

Orion shook his head. “Nope. Don’t think so.”

Corvus bit his lip. “Any House is okay, right?

Harry laughed. “Our expectations for you are the same as for the rest of those in our family. Be true to yourself and you will be happy wherever you are.”

Corvus grinned for a second, then frowned. “But what if Orion and I are separated?” he asked, his gray eyes meeting his twin’s. “We’ve never spent so much as one night apart.”

Harry shrugged. “It might happen and I know you’ll both be fine. You’ll meet new people and gain friendships...and so will Orion. You might be twins, but you’re two different people. You have to get used to that.” Harry looked at his sons, then hugged them as one; he couldn’t help himself. “You’re going to have a great year, boys. I know you will.”

The twins smiled bravely, then hugged their other father. “Bye dad,” they said in unison as they quickly scrambled away, up onto the train.

“I expect an owl before morning,” Draco called out.

“Yeah, yeah,” Orion yelled—and then they were gone.

~ o ~

Hey Dads,

Holy HELGA, my Common room is too cool...everyone is  
sooo nice! And...we have a cactus named Bob. Can you  
guess where I was sorted? Hehe. If you guessed  
Hufflepuff, then you’re spot on (obviously)!

The Great Hall was brilliant. Loved the food! I sure was  
frightened when I had to go up and sit on that stool all  
by myself. Then Headmistress McGonagall put that  
manky old hat on me and...she’s is a bit scary, yeah?  
Anyway, she called my name before Orion’s (I’m going  
to have to get him back for the shove he gave me), so I  
didn’t know where he’d be sorted. It was...odd to do  
something before him. Orion always goes first. I’m not  
going to tell you where he got sorted, because he’ll want  
to do it himself, but...he’s not in Hufflepuff.

Anyway, it’s been a long day and I’m exhausted. I’ll  
write as often as I can, but...Teddy says they keep us  
really busy here. He also told me there’s a back to  
school bash this weekend, so don’t expect an owl too  
soon. Hmm. I don’t think I was supposed to tell you  
about the party. Oops.

Got to go. Love you guys! Kiss the girls for me (not the  
boys, because they’d just say ‘ew’).

Love,  
Corvus Alfred Malfoy-Potter

P.S. What is the deal with all the ‘Badger Hugs’ I keep  
getting? Even Teddy seems to be obsessed with them.

P.P.S. Just thought of something else. There’s a boy in  
my House who says his father knows you, dad. His  
name is Reagan Nott and he’s really nice! I think I’ve  
met my first friend...outside family.

~ o ~

Dear Fathers of Mine!

I’m writing because I said I would. Well, more like you  
insisted upon it. The train ride was great. Met a few  
people. Mostly older kids though, since we sat with  
Teddy and Caelum and their friends. Well, for some of  
the trip. Teddy seemed to have a problem with Victoire.  
He said something that made her cry and she left our  
compartment. I didn’t hear it though. I wanted to go  
after her, but Corvus wanted to stay. I stayed for a bit,  
then said I had to use the loo and left. I found Victoire.  
She wasn’t crying anymore, but she wasn’t very happy.  
I stayed with her until all the first years had to get on  
the boats. That was weird too. Boats!

Oh. We met the hugest man on the planet, I think.  
His name was Hagrid and he said he knows you guys.

Anyway, you’re probably wondering where I got sorted.  
Part of me wants to keep you guessing. Maybe send you  
a clue every week. But then, I don’t think Corvus would  
let me have that sort of fun...not for very long, at least.  
So, I’ll tell you. I’m a snake, Dads! Can you believe it?  
Lol. I can. Hope you’re both all right with that.

Gonna slither off now. My bed is calling. By the way,  
Corvus did really good with his sorting...and then mine.  
I was really worried about how he’d react when I didn’t  
end up where he did, but he was strong. I guess I  
shouldn’t be surprised. We’re tough kids, us Malfoy-  
Potters!

Love you all! I’ll miss you!  
Orion Severus Malfoy-Potter

P.S. Tell Scorpius he can have the Muggle candy in my  
night table drawer (we made a bet about my House and  
he won), but remind him that he still has to do what he  
promised. You’ll know exactly what the promise was if  
he holds up his end of the bargain. Night!

~ o ~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Would like to hear from you all...please!
> 
> Also...house floor plan added to chapter one!


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * time skip (3 years)  
> * A LOT of quoted material (I had it italicized in the original doc, but I'm using HTML here, so...sorry! You'll recognize it...Scorpius has Albus' part and Orion has James' part (from the epilogue))  
> * Scorpius' "mother" is on the platform  
> * sorting letter  
> * no smut (sorry)

Next Generation at Hogwarts  
Scorpius (fourth of seven)  
Friday, 1 September 2017

~ o ~

Autumn seemed to arrive suddenly that year. The morning of the first of September was crisp and golden as an apple, and as the “little” Malfoy-Potter family bobbed across the rumbling road toward the great sooty station, the fumes of car exhausts and the breath of pedestrians sparkled like cobwebs in the cold air. Four large cages rattled on top of the laden trolleys the parents were pushing; the owls inside them hooted indignantly, and the redheaded girl trailed tearfully behind her brothers, clutching her dark-haired father’s arm.

“It won’t be long, and you’ll be going too,” Harry told her.

“Two years,” sniffed Lyra. “I want to go, now!”

The commuters stared curiously at the owls as the family wove its way toward the barrier between platforms nine and ten. Scorpius’ voice drifted back to Harry over the surrounding clamor; two of his sons had resumed the argument they had started in the car.

“I won’t! I won’t be in Ravenclaw!”

“Bookworm,” Orion teased, throwing a glance at his nervous little brother.

“Am not!” the younger boy growled—whined—his gray eyes nearly shooting daggers—all but filling with tears—as he glared.

Orion snorted. “Okay,” he drawled, his tone thick with sarcasm. He looked away to avoid the hurt he saw in his brother’s face. “If you say so.”

Hissing, Scorpius yanked off his glasses and shoved them into a pocket, then elbowed past his older brother. His initial intent was to call out to their father for help, but he quickly changed his mind, not wanting to humiliate himself further.

“Geez Ri, give it a rest!” said Corvus to his twin. “You trying to convince him that being intelligent is a bad thing?”

The older twin laughed. “Not at all. Just wanted him to want to be in Slytherin. With me.”

Corvus rolled his eyes. “I’m not sure about your methods. Seems to me they may be counterproductive.”

Orion frowned. “How’s that?”

“If you behave like an arse,” he whispered—because he didn’t want the parents to hear him—“why would Score want to be anywhere near you?”

Orion blinked. “Um. I just meant...well, I’d hoped that if he had it in his head that he didn’t want to be an eagle, then the hat would put him in Slytherin, because...he’s not a lion or badger.”

Corvus snorted. “Okay,” the boy said, sounding exactly like his twin had when he’d said that same word just minutes before. “Whatever you say.”

“I only said he might be,” Orion pushed, grinning at his younger—only by minutes—brother. “There’s nothing wrong with that, Cory. He might be in Raven—”

But Orion caught his blond father’s eye and fell silent. The nine Malfoy-Potters approached the barrier. With a slightly cocky look over his shoulder at his younger brother, Orion took the trolley from his father and broke into a run. A moment later, he had vanished. And with him, Caelum and Corvus disappeared as well.

“You’ll write to me, won’t you?” Scorpius asked his parents immediately, capitalizing on the momentary absence of his three older brothers.

“Every day, if you want us to,” said Draco, placing a reassuring hand on his son’s shoulder.

“Not every day,” said Scorpius quickly. “Rion and Cory say most people only get letters from home about once a month.”

“We wrote to them a few times a week their first years,” said Draco, shaking his head, his eyes going to his husband. “The little shits need to stop being—”

“Little shits?” Harry offered, grinning.

Draco nodded. “Exactly.”

Harry shrugged. “Well, you know...boys will be boys.”

Draco rolled his eyes. “Don’t get me started on your boys.”

“Hey!” the dark-haired man burst, affronted. “They’re all mine!”

The blond man laughed, then focused on the child at hand—and so did his green-eyed husband.

“Hang in there, Scorpius,” Draco said. “The hat will do right by you. I promise.”

“And you don’t want to believe everything Orion tells you about Hogwarts,” Harry put in. “He likes a laugh, your brother.”

His gray eyes wide, Scorpius nodded. “Right. I know that,” he said, nodding.

Both Draco and Harry smiled, but waited—Scorpius shifted on his feet and sighed, then reached into his pocket and pulled out his glasses.

“I don’t think I need these anymore, Poppy,” he said, handing them to Harry. “I really only wanted to wear them, because...well, except for Caelum, they all shifted to look a little like you, but...I didn’t. I wanted to be like you too.”

Harry nodded. “We knew why you were wearing them, Score.”

Scorpius looked down at his feet and shuffled them, then brought his eyes up to Harry’s. “So, it’s okay with you if I stop wearing them?”

Harry wanted to chuckle, but knew it might be misinterpreted—and so he only smiled. “Of course it’ll all right. You need to be you.”

Scorpius nodded.

“Plus, you don’t need a pair of glasses to make you a son of mine,” Harry continued. “You’ll always be mine...no matter what.”

Scorpius’ eyes went to his other father, where he must have seen what he was looking for—assurance—because he grinned. “Right,” the boy said.

Side by side, they pushed the second trolley forward, gathering speed. As they reached the barrier, Scorpius winced, but no collision came. Instead, the family emerged onto platform nine and three quarters, which was obscured by thick white steam that was pouring from the scarlet Hogwarts Express. Indistinct figures were swarming through the mist, into which his brothers had already disappeared.

“Where are they?” asked Scorpius anxiously, peering at the hazy forms they passed as they made their way down the platform.

“We’ll find them,” said Draco reassuringly.

But the vapor was dense, and it was difficult to make out anybody’s faces. Detached from their owners, voices sounded unnaturally loud. Harry thought he heard Percy discoursing loudly on broomstick regulations, and was quite glad of the excuse not to stop and say hello...

“I think that’s them, Scorpius,” said Draco suddenly.

A group of four people emerged from the mist, standing alongside the very last carriage. Their faces only came into focus when Harry, Draco, Scorpius, and the younger ones had drawn right up to them.

“Hi,” said Scorpius, sounding immensely relieved.

Rose, who was already wearing her brand-new Hogwarts robes, beamed at him.

“Parked all right, then?” Ron asked Harry. “I did. Hermione didn’t believe I could pass a Muggle driving test, did you? She thought I’d have to Confund the examiner.”

“No, I didn’t,” Hermione argued, “I had complete faith in you.”

“As a matter of fact, I did Confund him,” Ron whispered to Harry, as together they lifted Scorpius’ trunk and owl onto the train. “I only forgot to look in the wing mirror, and let’s face it, I can use a Supersensory Charm for that.”

Draco snorted. “I heard that.”

Ron glared at his best mate’s husband. “You shut it.”

Back on the platform, they found Lyra, Sirius, Aria, and Hugo, Rose’s younger brother, having a discussion about which House they would be sorted into when they finally went to Hogwarts.

“If you’re not in Gryffindor, we’ll disinherit you,” said Ron, “but no pressure.”

“Ron!”

Sirius, Lyra, and Hugo laughed, but Aria, Scorpius, and Rose looked solemn.

“He doesn’t mean it,” Hermione and Harry said in unison, but Ron was no longer paying attention. Catching Draco’s eye, he nodded covertly to a point some fifty yards away. The steam had thinned for a moment, revealing five people standing in sharp relief against the shifting mist.

“Look who it is.”

Glancing over, Draco resisted the urge to reach for his husband’s hand. Astoria Greengrass was standing there with her sister’s family, a dark coat buttoned up to her throat. Draco’s eyes raked over her, then shifted to her sister, Daphne. Daphne was as beautiful as ever, as was her daughter. The girl resembled her mother—and aunt—as much as Scorpius resembled Draco. It was uncanny. There was also a boy child of exactly the same height. Draco frowned, not remembering a twin. The boy very much resembled his sister—and Scorpius. Draco then shifted his gaze to Daphne’s husband. As he’d never met the man—he hadn’t been able to, because of his condition—he didn’t recognize him. He was tall and blond and quite attractive. Draco thought the couple suited one another. And then Astoria caught sight of him staring at them, nodded curtly, then looked away again.

“So that’s the ex,” said Ron under his breath.

Turning his back to the woman, Draco nodded, a frowned etched on his face.

“Hmm. Pretty,” the red-haired man said flatly.

“Ron,” both Harry and Hermione said warningly.

“What?” he said, obliviously. “She is. A man would have to be blind not to notice. Well, unless he’s gay.”

Both Harry and Draco snorted. “Even a gay man has eyes, Weasley,” sneered Draco.

“See?” Ron said to his wife, before looking at his daughter. “Make sure you beat those two in every test, Rosie. Thank God you inherited your mother’s brains.”

“Ron, for heaven’s sake,” said Hermione, half stern, half amused. “Don’t try to turn them against each other before they’ve even started school!”

But Ron Weasley’s roundabout support made Draco smile. Never, in a million years, would he have thought the other man would be on his side.

“You’re right, sorry,” said Ron, but unable to help himself, he added, “Don’t get too friendly with them, though, Rosie. Especially the boy. Granddad Weasley would never forgive you if you married a pureblood.”

“Hey!” Draco snapped. So much for support, he thought.

“Hey everyone.” Orion had reappeared; he had divested himself of his trunk, owl, and trolley, and was evidently bursting with news.

“Teddy’s back there,” he said breathlessly, pointing back over his shoulder into the billowing clouds of steam. “Just seen him! And guess what he’s doing? Snogging Victoire!”

He gazed up at the adults, evidently disappointed by the lack of reaction.

“Our Teddy! Teddy Lupin! Snogging our Victoire! And I asked Teddy what he was doing—”

“You interrupted them? said Harry, chuckling. “You are so like Ron—”

“—and he said he’d come to see her off! And then he told me to go away. He’s snogging her!” Orion added as thought worried he had not made himself clear.

“Oh, it would be lovely if they got married!” whispered Lyra ecstatically, “Victoire would really be part of our family then!”

“She’s always over anyway,” Draco put in—but no one was really listening. Then looking at his watch, he nudged his husband.

“It’s nearly eleven, you’d better get on board,” the dark-haired man said.

“Don’t forget to give Neville our love!” Hermione said to the group at large. Rosie nodded, but Orion scowled.

“We can’t give a professor love!” he said.

“But you know Neville—”

Orion rolled his eyes and looked at his twin for help.

Corvus pulled a face and made a show of shuddering. “Outside, yeah, but at school he’s Professor Longbottom, isn’t he? We can’t walk into Herbology and give him love....”

Shaking his head at his aunt’s foolishness, Orion vented his feelings by aiming a kick at Scorpius.

“See you later, Score. Watch out for the thestrals.”

“I thought they were invisible? You said they were invisible!”

But Orion merely laughed, permitted his fathers to kiss the top of his head, gave them each a fleeting hug, then grabbed his twin’s hand and leapt onto the rapidly filling train. They saw them wave, then sprint away up the corridor to find their friends.

“Thestrals are nothing to worry about,” Harry told Scorpius. “They’re gentle things, there’s nothing scary about them. Just ask Hagrid sometime.”

Draco snorted, causing Harry to flash him a hush up look—which Draco quickly understood.

“Anyway, you won’t be going up to the school in the carriages, you’ll be going in the boats,” Draco added.

“Boats?” the blond boy queried.

Harry knelt down. “Yeah. You remember, right? We told you about them.”

Scorpius nodded, a worried frown creasing his brow. “Yes, I remember.”

“Now, off you go before you miss the train,” Draco said. Then, leaning over, he hugged and kissed his nervous son good-bye. “See you at Christmas.”

Scorpius grinned at this; he loved Christmas.

“Bye, Scorpius,” said Harry as his son hugged him. “Don’t forget Hagrid’s invited you to tea next Friday. Don’t mess with Peeves. Don’t duel anyone till you’ve learned how. And don’t let Orion wind you up.”

“What if I’m in Slytherin with him?

The whisper was for this father alone, and Harry knew that only the moment of departure could have forced Scorpius to reveal how great and sincere that fear was.”

Glancing at Draco, Harry crouched down so that Scorpius’ face was slightly above his own.

“Scorpius Hyperion,” Harry said, quietly, so that nobody but Draco could hear, and he was tactful enough to pretend to be tending their younger children, “is it being in the same House as Orion or being in Slytherin that has you bothered?”

Scorpius shrugged. “Maybe both.”

“Your father was in Slytherin House and—”

But just say—”

“—then Slytherin House will have gained an excellent student, won’t it? It doesn’t matter to us, Score. But if it matters to you, you’ll be able to choose your House. The Sorting Hat takes your choice into account.”

“Really?”

“It did for me,” said Harry.

He had never told any of the children that before—or Draco for that matter—and he saw the wonder in Scorpius’ face when he said it. But now the doors were slamming all along the scarlet train, and the blurred outlines of parents were swarming forward for final kisses, last-minute reminders.

After a nod and a smile, Scorpius turned and followed Caelum. Together they jumped into the carriage and Draco closed the door behind them. Students were hanging from the windows nearest them. A great number of faces, both on the train and off, seemed to be turned toward Harry.

“Why are they all staring?” demanded Scorpius as he and Rose craned around to look at the other students.

“Don’t let it worry you,” said Ron. “It’s me. I’m extremely famous.”

Scorpius, Rose, Hugo, Aria, Sirius and Lyra laughed. The train began to move, and Harry and Draco walked along side it, watching their son’s thin face, already ablaze with excitement. They both kept smiling, and waving, even though it was like a little bereavement, watching their son glide away from them...

The last trace of steam evaporated in the autumn air. The train rounded a corner. Harry’s hand was still raised in farewell.

“He’ll be all right,” murmured Draco.

As Harry looked at him, he lowered his hand absent-mindedly.

“I know he will. It’s just...I didn’t know it would be this hard.

Draco chuckled. “Well, we still have three more to see off, so...get used to it, Potter.”

Grinning, Harry turned and put his hands on his husband’s cheeks, then pulled him in for a kiss. As their lips met, the blond’s eyes fluttered closed—as did Harry’s. The kiss was brief, however, because they were interrupted.

“Merlin, you two are like teenagers!” Ron burst, causing giggles from the children surrounding them. “I mean, come on, grow up!”

“There’s nothing wrong with showing our affection, Weasley,” Draco said, his eyes still closed, his lips a hair’s breadth from his husband’s.

“Yeah, Uncle Ron, don’t you want our daddies to be happy,” Lyra asked, her reddish-blond ponytails bouncing as she positioned her hands on her hips and glared up at him. She was joined by Sirius and Aria, both sending Ron equally angry death glares.

“I...ahh...of course I want them to be h-happy,” Ron stammered, his face turning red.

Harry and Draco had stopped kissing and smiled at the children who’d come to their defense. “All right, munchkins,” Harry said, before things could get more heated. “What do you say we all head over to Fortescue’s, yeah?”

Immediately distracted, Lyra and Aria grinned—as did Sirius and Hugo.

“Can we go too?” Hugo begged his parents.

Hermione glanced at Ron—who shrugged—then nodded. “Of course we can,” she said.

~ o ~

So, Dads...

Here’s the news I’m sure you’re eagerly awaiting  
—though I bet you won’t be surprised...at all!  
I had to have a LONG conversation with the hat,  
but...bottom line is that I didn’t really belong  
anywhere else but Ravenclaw. I mean, it said I could  
also do well in another House (not saying which,  
because it’s moot at this point). I hope that’s all right  
with you both—Ravenclaw not being either of your  
Houses and all. I’m sorry if you’re disappointed.

So anyway, now you have one of us in each House,  
yeah? That’s sort of cool, right? I think so anyway.  
It was difficult though, because I didn’t want  
to give Orion the satisfaction of being right about  
me—not that he really WAS right, mind, because I know  
he was just trying to use reverse psychology on  
me, to get me to manipulate the hat and all. Grr!  
It was also difficult, because I didn’t want to be  
where HE is! And NOT because he went into Slytherin,  
because of course I don’t care about that! You  
both know that, right? Anyway, I hope it’s obvious  
that it’s because he’s been a bit of berk about it all.  
I know that’s horrible of me to say about my own brother,  
but...I hope you’re not angry. *sigh*

So, on to other things. I got sorted and went to my  
table with all the other new eagles. They’re really great!   
I mean, everyone is sooo smart! I ended up sitting near  
Thaddeus Nott. He’s two years older, but REALLY  
cool. Oh, and his sister, Adora, who sorted just after  
me, went into Slytherin. Thaddeus seemed to be  
expecting it. Family must just sort of know, right? And  
speaking of knowing...Rose went into Gryffindor. Dominique  
was ECSTATIC! I bet Uncle Ron will be sooo relieved. Lol.  
OH! And Aunt Daphne’s twins, they BOTH went into  
Hufflepuff! I’m sure the grandparents are going to be  
THRILLED with THAT news. Lol. I wish I could be there  
to see their reaction.

Anyway, I should probably end my babbling. It’s late  
and everyone else is asleep. I just...HAD to write before  
I went to bed, so that you’d know which House I got  
sorted into. I’m fairly sleepy now though, but I promise  
to write often...as long as it doesn’t interfere with  
my studies, of course.

Love you both...ALWAYS!  
Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy-Potter

P.S. Apparently, Rion’s got a girlfriend! Well, a girl  
he likes anyway...I saw him stumbling all over himself  
to talk to her, but she didn’t seem all that keen on  
him. I tried very hard not to laugh. She’s a Ravenclaw,  
so, I plan to do everything in my power to find out what’s  
going on. Hehe.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * time skip (one year)  
> * dinner with friends (unusual pairings)  
> * letter from Aria  
> * Floo call  
> * smut  
> * serious discussion

Next Generation at Hogwarts  
Aria (fifth of seven)  
Saturday, 1 September 2018

~ o ~

After dropping off their older children on the platform at Kings Cross Station, Draco and Harry—with their extremely disgruntled twins in tow—headed out to have dinner with friends. They were meeting Pansy and her new boyfriend.

Well, not a new boyfriend, per se...just one she’d been vehemently refusing to let anyone meet—for TWO years! But she finally wanted to introduce her man...and all in one fell swoop, apparently—she’d invited Greg and his wife of half a decade now, Blaise and his piece of the week, Millicent and her bonded, and Theo and his wife Alannis.

First though, they’d stopped at the Burrow to drop off the twins with Molly Weasley; Lyra and Sirius were unhappy about being left behind when Aria, Corvus, Orion, and Scorpius went off to school and...well...Draco and Harry didn’t want their evening with friends ruined by pouting or rudeness. Normally they didn’t tolerate such nonsense from their children, but...they knew seeing Aria off to Hogwarts had been extra hard on them, being less than eight months younger than their older sister and as close as close can be. Leaving them at the Burrow just seemed to make sense; Hugo would be there as well and Molly would spoil them rotten!

And joining the friendly little outing would be Ron and Hermione, of course—and also Ginny, her current boyfriend, and two of her teammates, who’d been visiting the Burrow when they’d arrived—because Draco’s group of friends was just too many snakes for Harry to have to deal with—even after all these years.

So, after leaving the Burrow, the group of eight Apparated into wizarding London to meet up with the rest, then walked through the streets until they arrived at the agreed upon location; a posh restaurant that required reservations.

When they walked in, Greg and his wife, Annabel, were already there, sitting at a large table in the back with Theo and Alannis Nott. Noticing them first, Theo nodded and Greg turned and smiled at his old friend, standing up to greet them.

“Hiya guys,” the large ex-Slytherin grunted as he extended a large hand to first Draco, then Harry and Ron. Then he took Hermione’s hand, tiny by comparison, and kissed it gently—and finally gave Ginny and her friends a nod. By now Ron and Hermione had spent a fair amount of time with Gregory Goyle to be comfortable with him, but Ginny didn’t feel quite so at ease.

“Goyle,” she greeted neutrally.

“Weaselette,” he returned—causing the red-haired firecracker to stare, then laugh.

As they were saying their hellos to everyone at the table and getting themselves seated, Blaise sauntered in with...the most camp looking twink imaginable. The guy was considerably younger than Blaise—maybe twenty-five, if even that—and wearing a nearly sheer, hot pink, midriff-showing, long-sleeved top, a pair of bright orange denims in which he seemed to be poured, tons of gaudy jewelry, and thick black eyeliner. Blaise, on the other hand, was dressed age-appropriate, of course—stylish, as always, in a handsome pair of black trousers and a forest green button up, which was semi-covered by a tan tweed jacket and a cream-colored scarf—and appeared to be extremely annoyed with his date.

Ignoring his fruitloop—for the moment—Blaise warmly embraced Draco as the blond stood up, but waved everyone else off so they would stay seated.

“Harry,” he greeted, shaking the ex-Gryffindor’s hand before nodding at the rest. Then he looked at his date and frowned. “Okay,” he said. “Introductions, I guess...though...it seems we’re still missing a few. Hmm. Oh well.” He shrugged. “On this side we have my best mate, Draco, and his lovely husband, Harry Potter.”

Draco cleared his throat and glared.

“Excuse me. What I meant was, Harry Malfoy-Potter,” Blaise altered with a roll of his eyes before looking at his friends. “My apologies for the slip, gentlemen...I still find it difficult.”

Everyone laughed—including Harry—because Draco’s frustration over their combined name was often something they had to deal with. “That’s better, Zabini,” said Draco, as he looped his arm over the back of Harry chair and leaned into the man.

“Alrighty then. On that side,” Blaise said, ignoring his friend and gesturing to his left, “Greg and Annabel Goyle. And...at the end is...well, the hot redhead is Ginevra Weasley,” he said—and Ginny raised a hand and gave a small wave. “But...I don’t know her friends.”

Ginny laughed. “Boyfriend,” she said, placing a hand on the man next to her, “and teammates of mine. Pay attention, poser,” she called out with a smile, but didn’t name the two women or her boyfriend.

Blaised rolled his eyes. “Well, there you go then,” he said. “Next is Theo and Alannis Nott. Then Weasley and Granger, the Gryffindorks I told you about.”

“HEY!” came shouts from Harry at one end of the table and Ginny on the other.

Blaise snickered, but Ron Weasley snorted, quite used to the epithet.

“All right, all right! Ron and Hermione Weasley,” the ex-Slytherin amended. “Do you two know how painful that is?!” he griped.

Everyone laughed.

“Anyway...everybody...this is Drew,” he finished, obviously bothered, like it was putting him out to introduce his current piece of arse—which he could have left behind.

Drew grinned and waved at everyone—then continued to smile stupidly when Blaise pushed him into the chair next to Harry.

“Sit Drewsy,” Blaise said, looking bored. “Have a chat with Harry.” The dark-skinned wizard then glanced around for their server and gestured that he’d like a drink—a strong one. “Just keep them coming,” he instructed.

“You’re Harry Potter? Really?” the younger man asked—eliciting an irritated glare from Draco.

“Malfoy-Potter,” the blond grumbled.

But there was no need for Draco to be upset, because Harry had no interest in the much younger man.

“Malfoy-Potter,” the Harry repeated—then put his hand on Draco’s leg and squeezed, then added, “And this is Draco...my husband. We have seven children, you know.”

Drew seemed to be deaf though. “I’ve read all about you, Mr Potter. You are just...wonderful. Brilliant even!”

Though he agreed, Draco rolled his eyes—then decided on another tactic. “He is...really,” he said, snaking his arms around Harry and nuzzling him possessive, then leaning in just a touch more to whisper. “I’ve never been more satisfied...if you know what I mean.”

At that Harry rolled his eyes, but Drew just stared—then someone else joined them.

“Hello lions and snakes,” a cheerful voice sing-songed as she waltzed in, in a bright pink fluffy jumper—followed immediately by her bonded wife, Millicent Bulstrode, who’d actually grown into a lovely woman.

Ron Weasley groaned—which received him a sharp elbow to the ribs from his wife. “Be nice!” Hermione hissed.

Pulling a face, Ron leaned into Hermione. “Did you know they were coming?” he asked.

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Of course, Ronald. Grow up,” she scolded—then stood up to greet both women, first Lavender and then Millicent. “Lavender. Millicent. It’s lovely to see you both.”

Unexpectedly, Lavender threw her arms around Hermione and squeezed, then backed off and gave Ron a tight smile. “Ron.”

“Hey Lav,” the redhead said, blushing a bit. In general, they didn’t spend a lot of time with Lavender and Millicent, because Ron was a touch awkward around his ex—which made Lavender uncomfortable and Millicent irritable.

“How are you both?” Hermione asked Millicent as they sat down side by side.

Millicent shrugged. “Fairly busy, actually,” she responded. “We’re just glad this little get together isn’t happening during the full moon.”

Hermione nodded. “Of course,” she said, her eyes going to Lavender, whose face was turned down slightly at the mention of her time of the month. “Well, we wouldn’t schedule it then.”

Their fingers laced, Millicent and Lavender smiled gratefully.

“So, what’s this all about anyway?” Blaise cut in after swallowing a large sip...er...gulp...of whatever he was drinking. “I mean, we all know Pansy’s been hiding her boy toy.”

Draco scoffed. “Hiding her boy toy? Come on, Blaise...she’s been dating the same bloke for...what? A couple years! And we’ve yet to set eyes on the man? Something’s fishy! The bint is hiding something!”

“Wait. What?!” Ginny interrupted. “Parkinson’s been dating this guy for a couple years and none of you’ve met him? What the fuck’s up with that?!” she asked as she brought her drink up to her mouth.

“Nope. Not even a glance,” said Draco. “Crazy, huh?”

“That’s mental,” Ron added.

“Not mental. That’s fucking nuts!” Ginny objected vehemently.

“Well, I’m dying to know who he is,” Greg added.

“Who says it’s a he,” Millicent threw out there.

Lavender shook her head. “Naw. Pansy said, and I quote, ‘I’m ready for everyone to meet him’...him. Definitely a guy. OH! Maybe he’s a Muggle.” She instantly covered her mouth, as if she’d said a filthy word, then giggled.

Everyone started laughing.

Blaise shook his head. “No way! Pansy’s family would strangle her.”

Draco nodded his agreement. “I do believe Rickard Parkinson would, at the very least, Crucio his dear daughter if she were dating a Muggle,” he said, thinking about Mr Parkinson and how controlling the man was, then shaking his head. “He can’t be a Muggle.”

Hermione frowned. “That’s ridiculous! What is wrong with you people? There’s nothing wrong with Muggles. My parents are Muggles. They’re wonderful people.”

Blaise rolled his eyes. “Of course there’s nothing wrong with them, Herm. You know that and...we know that...now anyway...but, the Parkinsons, sort of like the Malfoys, do not. Sorry Draco.”

Draco shrugged. He knew his father hadn’t completely put his prejudice aside. In fact, the only thing that kept Lucius Malfoy behaving these days—in regard to Harry and the children—was Draco’s threat to change his surname. Lucius Malfoy did not like, in any way, shape, or form, that his “heirs” might end up being Blacks, instead of Malfoys. To him Malfoy-Potter was more acceptable than just plain Black.

“But it would make sense, wouldn’t it?” Lavender persisted. “Why else would she keep him hidden? And why wouldn’t any of us know who he is? I’ve tried to figure this out, but...nothing!”

“Maybe he’s just, you know...a youngster...like Drewsy there,” Theo teased, gesturing at Blaise’s new friend—who was still actively trying to flirt with Harry.

Everyone laughed—everyone except Blaise, that is, who instead flipped Theo a rude gesture. Theo then laughed harder. Draco chuckled a bit—though his mirth was tempered some in his irritation with the younger man’s attentions on his husband.

Beside Draco, Harry was just listening. He was doing his best to ignore the man beside him and he didn’t give two shits who Pansy was dating. He figured they’d meet him when they met him—which was tonight apparently.

And then Pansy Parkinson walked in on the arm of someone Harry did know. Stunned, he dropped his glass and just...gaped. “I...ahh...know him,” he said quietly.

Next to Harry, Draco quickly repaired the shattered glass, then frowned at his husband with concern. “What is it?”

Harry nodded at the approaching couple. “Pansy. And her boyfriend,” he whispered. “He is a Muggle. And he’s...my cousin.”

Lavender gasped, hearing Harry with her heightened werewolf senses even though he’d spoken quietly.

Draco stared for a moment, then turned and looked at his friend. Pansy was smiling, albeit nervously, as she approached with her man. The guy was huge! But surprisingly—to Harry—no longer fat. Just tall and bulky...and built!

Everyone seemed to be gawking at them as they neared—so much so, in fact, that Pansy felt a little sick to her stomach. Huffing, she squared her shoulders and glared fiercely at the lot of them. “What the fuck are you all staring at?” she snapped. “Dudley, these are my stupid, twat friends. Well, most of them,” she said, her eyes going to the few she didn’t recognize. “Everyone, this is Dudley Dursley. My husband! Be nice!”

Everyone just sort of gaped at her.

Lavender recovered first. “I was right then. Muggle.”

Pansy glared—for only a moment though, because it was hard to be upset with Lavender; she’d put up with so much since the war and was just...too nice. Annoyingly so, most of the time, but still. And clearly the blonde ex-Gryffindor meant nothing by her comment...though it did reveal what her friends had been discussing before she and Dudley had walked in.

Clearing his throat, Draco stood up—Harry following suit—and extended a hand to Pansy’s husband. “Dudley,” he said. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you after all this time. Apparently you’re related to my husband.”

Harry groaned and ran a nervous hand through his already messy hair.

“What the fuck, Potter?” Pansy growled.

“It’s Malfoy-Potter,” Draco corrected, glaring at Pansy as he shook her husband’s hand. “Why can’t anyone seem to fucking remember that?”

“Whatever Draco,” Pansy snapped, waving her hand dismissively. “Really, who cares, at this point?” Then she turned on Harry again, opening her mouth to tear him up.

“It’s all right, darling,” Dudley cut in before she could go off, his arm slipping around her tiny waist; she actually looked miniscule beside him. “Harry and I...we just have a past. As you know.”

Pansy sighed, but nodded and didn’t continue her rant. “Fine then, but...if Potter and I can get over our past...and Draco and Harry can...be what they are...then you two certainly can.”

Dudley frowned and looked at his cousin. Harry was obviously contemplating it.

“I guess so, yeah,” the dark-haired man finally said, sticking his hand out to shake that of his cousin. “Wow. This is just...wow!”

“I know, right?” said Dudley, grinning as he pumped Harry’s hand.

“Just...no comments about me turning out gay,” Harry said.

Dudley laughed. “I have no issue with that, Harry,” he said—then chuckled. “I have gay friends and...half of Pansy’s friends are gay apparently.”

Drew snorted. “I’m not a hundred percent sure of this one,” he griped as he toodled his fingers in Blaise’s direction. “If I weren’t such a brilliant cock-sucker, I’m not sure he’d in interested at all.”

Everyone laughed again.

Blaise, however, yawned—to feign boredom—and stood up to greet Pansy and her husband, then grabbed Drew’s wrist and dragged him up from his chair and manhandled him around the table to sit beside Lavender, so that Dudley could sit beside Harry—and so Harry wouldn’t have to deal with the younger man’s touchy-feely flirtations...which pleased Draco, because he was ready to push Drewsy out of the nearest window.

“So...husband, huh?” Millicent queried. “Why didn’t you invite us to the wedding? Or even tell us? Or something.”

Pansy harrumphed. “Here it is, in short. There was no wedding. Father is seriously pissed off,” she said, rolling her eyes. “So much so that I’ve been disowned. And I...ahh...had to tell you, because...I’m pregnant!” Her dark depths then filled with tears, forcing her to have to blink several times to dispel them.

Dudley instantly grabbed her hand and squeezed. The other men just sat there silently, but the women smiled. Lavender, however, squealed. “Oh! Congratulations,” she burst happily. “That is so wonderful.”

Millicent nodded and smiled at her long-time friend, saying, “Congratulations, Pansy”—then bit her lip for Lavender. She knew her wife wanted a baby more than anything, but that her condition prevented her from carrying. They had spent many a night agonizing over the issue, but hadn’t gotten anywhere. She’d offered one time to carry a baby, even though she didn’t particularly wish to experience pregnancy, but Lavender, knowing this, had declined the offer because she was too nice to force such a thing on someone she loved.

Smiling nervously, Pansy nodded. “We really are happy about it...even if our families are not,” she whispered.

This got Harry’s attention. “Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon displeased with your choice, huh?” he asked his cousin.

Dudley snorted. “To say the least. You should have seen dad. About hit the roof when he found out about Pattycake. Mum’s been...a bit different since you left, Harry. Feels guilty, I suspect.”

“Pfft! Good!” Ron Weasley burst from across the table.

“Ronald,” Hermione hissed, glaring at her husband.

Ron shrugged. “Am I wrong?”

Hermione blushed and looked down.

Beside Harry, Dudley sighed. “We were all horrible to Harry,” he admitted, his eyes going around the table, then settling on his cousin. “I can’t speak for the parents, of course...dad, at least...but I’m quite sorry. And I know mum is too. I hope, in time, you’ll be able to forgive us.”

Harry shrugged. “Like I said...let’s forget it.”

Sighing his relief, Dudley grinned.

“Now that that’s over with, are we going to eat or what?” Blaise asked. “I’m starving.”

~ o ~

Sometime after desert, but before the dinner party broke up, an owl arrived for Draco and Harry Malfoy-Potter.

“It’s from Aria, I’d imagine,” Draco said.

Harry nodded. “Open it up then,” he instructed impatiently, “so we can find out what color our daughter’s uniform is.”

Everyone grinned excitedly.

Reaching out, Draco exchanged the letter the owl was holding with a treat, then opened the envelope and began reading—to himself.

“Out loud,” Harry said eagerly.

Rolling his eyes, Draco cleared his throat and started over:

Dearest Daddies,

Well, my first day at Hogwarts has come to  
a close—I’ve ridden the Hogwarts Express, boated  
across the lake, gotten myself sorted, and am now  
up in my dorm. Yes...I said up! Would either of  
you like to guess where I was sorted? Is it  
Gryffindor or Ravenclaw? Hmm. You’ll have  
to wait and see, because I’m not telling. YET! Hehe.

Okay. Here’s some juicy gossip for you, since  
I know you love it. First...Thaddeus Nott.

At this point Draco stopped reading aloud and read ahead—to himself—then glanced up at those watching him. Theo and Alannis had near identical looks.

“Well, go on,” Theo said.

Draco sighed, avoiding a glance at two others at the table, and continued:

First...Thaddeus Nott. Apparently he’s dating  
Rose. Or something...I saw them flirting, but...don’t  
tell Uncle Ron.

Draco glanced up at Ron and smirked. “Too late for that, I guess,” he said, seeing Ron Weasley’s furiously red face as he glared at Theo Nott.

“That boy of yours better keep his hands off my twelve-year-old daughter,” Ron warned.

Theo just chuckled. His eyes going back to Draco, he gestured that the blond should keep reading—and he did:

Second, seems that Orion has developed a  
thing for Adora Nott. Or...maybe it’s the other  
way around. I’m not sure. Hmm. Adora seems to  
have that puppy dog face, so...I think it might  
be her, not him. Anyway...yeah...love is in  
the air, here at Hogwarts! Lol.

At this news, Theo flushed—and glared at Draco and Harry—which caused Ron Weasley to burst out laughing.

“Not so funny when it’s your twelve-year-old, is it?” the redhead said, snickering.

“Fuck off, Weasley!” Theo spat. “My daughter is the paragon of virtue. I’m not worried.”

Ron snorted. “Yeah, you keep telling yourself that, Nott.”

Both Hermione and Alannis just rolled their eyes and waited for Draco to start reading again:

So...the next to last bit of information for you...and  
don’t get angry, okay? You’re probably going to  
be receiving an owl from Headmistress McGonagall,  
because...well...Scorpius sort of got in an altercation...with  
Corvus. Let me explain though. Apparently, our  
dear brother has gotten close to Fritz and Heike von  
Gerkan-Greengrass (Scorpius’ aunt’s twins)  
and Scorp is furious about it! I’m not sure why  
he’s so upset, but...you might want to owl Scorpy’s  
bio mum. I mean, I know she’s been completely out  
of the picture for years, but... *sigh* ...I don’t  
know, dads. It’s just a thought. Yeah?

Anyway, here’s the real last bit...  
blue and bronze! *grin*

So that’s it. Lots of love to you both. Give Lyra  
and Siri my love and tell them I soooo cannot wait for  
them to join me (us) here next year. This place is  
INCREDIBLE!

Love Always,  
Aria Iris Malfoy-Potter

P.S. Don’t worry about Cory and Scorp. I’ll talk to  
Scorpy and get his head screwed on straight.  
I promise.  
xoxo

Draco finished letter, a frown etched on his brow. Their boys were fighting? That was just odd. Scorpius wasn’t a fighter; he was much more of a thinker. And it was even more strange that it was Scorpius with Corvus—rather than with Orion, who seemed to like stirring up trouble.

“Hmm. Well, that’s that then,” Harry said, wondering how long before McGonalgall’s owl would arrive.

~ o ~

After saying their goodbyes, Draco and Harry left the restaurant and headed home. They didn’t live too far away, but further than they wanted to walk—and so they Apparated home.

“I can’t believe they’re fighting,” Draco said as he took off his coat and hung it up. “I thought we taught them better than that.”

Harry chuckled. “They’re boys, Draco...sometimes they need to let off steam,” he said as he shrugged out of his coat and handed it to his husband.

Draco snorted, but took the garment and put it away. “You sound proud, Potter. Will you be happy if they get expelled?”

Rolling his eyes, Harry grabbed the blond by the front of his shirt and pulled him into a kiss. “They’re not going to be expelled for a punch or two, love, so...relax,” he said, leaning in and taking Draco’s lips again, nipping them sharply, then gently nibbling his way up to his husband’s earlobe.

“That feels...very nice,” Draco said as he closed his eyes and tilted his head to give Harry better access. “I want you.”

Grinning, Harry attacked the blond’s neck. “We should head to the Burrow first. To pick up the twins. Before we get so busy that. We forget about them altogether.”

Draco groaned. “Who?”

Harry chuckled, then stopped kissing Draco’s neck and swatted his behind. “I’ll go get them,” he said. “You go upstairs and get ready for bed. I want you too and...I don’t want to wait longer than I have to.”

The blond grinned, then Apparated straight upstairs into their bedroom.

Laughing again—at Draco’s eagerness—Harry headed to the Floo.

“We’re back home, Molly,” he called out into the Burrow.

“OH! Harry. The children are already tucked in,” the older woman said. “Why don’t you are Draco stop by tomorrow to pick them up. In fact, how about tea at three-ish.”

Harry blinked. An evening alone with Draco? Who was he to argue. “Sounds splendid, Molly,” he said, nodding.

The older woman smiled. “Wonderful,” she said. “Go on home then, dear...you have a husband waiting for you.”

Harry grinned. “I do, don’t I?”

Molly only tutted.

“All right then,” he said. “See you tomorrow for tea.”

Molly didn’t respond—and Harry didn’t even notice.

~ o ~

By the time Harry reached the fourth floor bedroom he shared with his husband, he’d removed the upper half of his clothing and was undoing the closure of his trousers.

But, as he walked into their room, expecting to find his very gorgeous husband spread out in the middle of their bed completely starkers, instead he found the blond still fully clothed and kneeling down, head in the Floo.

For several moments, Harry just watched. He couldn’t hear the conversation—as it was going on in someone else’s home—but, by the way Draco’s lower half was wiggling around, he could tell his husband was quite probably talking to one of their friends.

And then he noticed a piece of parchment lying on their bed.

~ o ~

“I want to know why you didn’t tell me, Pans,” Draco said. “I thought we were...you know, best friends.”

“We are, darling,” she said. “It’s just—”

“And why won’t you let me come all the way through?” he continued, cutting her off.

Pansy huffed and glanced behind her...toward a door at the far end of the room. “Dudley’s in the shower and he won’t be in there forever. I will not have him find you standing in the middle of my boudoir when he comes to find me and take me to bed.”

“All right then,” the blond said. “Fine. Answer my other question.”

“What other question?” Pansy attempted to evade.

“Why. Didn’t. You. TELL. Me?” he all but growled.

Pansy sighed. “It was just too hard, Draco,” she said. “For the longest time I didn’t know about him being related to Potter. We were just so wrapped up in each other. There was the Muggle thing. I was embarrassed at first, I guess. And then the parents found out and I...well, you know my father. It didn’t go well.”

“But it’s been years,” said Draco.

Pansy just looked away.

Draco shook his head. “You should have told us. If nothing else, you wouldn’t have had to do this all on your own.”

Pansy’s eyes filled with tears. “By the time Dudley and I figured things out...it got crazy here. Neither of us believed Potter...I mean Harry...could forgive us.”

Draco rolled his eyes. “Goodness, Pans...you know Harry had already forgiven you. I distinctly recall a conversation between the two of you in the park...eight years ago, in fact...where you two let the past go. And we’ve all been getting together for years now.”

Pansy bit her lip. “Fine then. Dudley was worried. He didn’t think Harry could forgive him and I...Dudley’s everything to me now, Draco,” she said pleadingly, her dark eyes begging for forgiveness. “Please don’t be angry with me.”

Draco sighed—but smirked a little too. “You really love him, don’t you?”

Pansy folded her arms over her chest and glanced away for a second, then looked back and gave one clipped nod. “Yes. Happy now?”

“No, I’m not happy. Not at all,” Draco replied. “But...I do understand. And I—”

Pansy watched as Draco Malfoy-Potter froze, his eyes widening.

“What is it, Draco?” she asked when he didn’t continue.

“I...”

“Draco, darling?” Pansy queried, taking a step closer.

“Um.” He frowned and looked up at his friend. “What was I saying?”

Pansy sighed and waved her hands about. “You’re not happy, but you understand. Etcetera.”

“Oh. Yes. That,” he said, nodding. “Hmm. I do u-understand, but.... Mmm.”

Pansy frowned. “Draco, it’s not like you to be so...inarticulate. What’s going on?”

But her friend didn’t seem to be listening to her. In fact, he seemed to be somewhere else entirely, his gray eyes slightly glossed over as they looked into her room without actually seeing. She even waved her hand in front of his unseeing eyes.

“DRACO!” she shouted, snapping her fingers right in front of his face.

Draco immediately focused. “It’s okay. I’m fine,” he said, a blush creeping over his face. “Mm-hmm.”

Pansy narrowed her eyes and leaned even closer to her friend. His pupils were dilated and...was that a bead of sweat on his forehead? She continued to study her longtime friend. “I’m worried about you, Draco.”

“Said I’m fine!” he ground out—then bit his lip to prevent a moan from escaping.

What Pansy didn’t know was that Draco’s husband had taken the opportunity to molest him from the other side of the Floo. First, he felt his trousers and pants vanish...and then things escalated quickly. Harry was immediately there, behind him, maneuvering him so that his legs were spread some—so that Harry’s fingers could explore while he was otherwise engaged. Draco felt one of Harry’s hands slide down, between his cheeks while the other snaked around and grabbed hold of his rapidly filling cock.

“I am,” the blond managed, responding to Pansy’s skeptical look. “Really.”

“You don’t look fine. You’re...perspiring,” she said, looking just a bit disgusted. “And you’re completely flushed, Draco. Are you...sick?”

“N-no,” he grunted, his eyes widening—then rolling just a little when he felt Harry’s mouth on his bollocks, nibbling and sucking at them. They were tight and heavy now, ready for some action—as was his cock, which Harry was still pulling on with maddeningly slow strokes.

And then he felt his husband’s tongue licking a path up to his exposed hole, where it teased, then pushed inside. Draco squirmed at the intrusion, but still managed to stay his moan of pleasure.

A moment later, Harry’s hands and tongue disappeared, causing the blond to blink with confusion.

And then something hit Draco—Harry’s magic—causing him to shudder. Harry, who was an expert at lubrication spells, had clearly cast Draco’s favorite, allowing a warm, tingling wetness to spread into the blond’s body. And then, before he knew it, the man on the other side of the Floo was breaching his body...slowly filling him.

It seemed like it took ages for Harry’s hard cock to become fully seated. When it was, the dark-haired man paused, holding Draco’s hips still as they both became accustomed to their bodies being joined. It didn’t take long, really. They were used to this. But doing it while someone watched, unwittingly, was different.

And then, when Harry started moving, it took everything Draco had not to moan. Instead, he looked at Pansy and tried to focus. “I...um...” he started, his body tense as Harry drove into him over and over. “Feel fine. Good, actually,” he continued—his eyes going wide when Harry hit his prostate. “Oh! Brilliant even.”

Pansy continued to watch her friend—until she heard him hiss out an under-the-breath “right there!” At this point she rolled her eyes. “Potter’s fucking you, isn’t he?” she asked knowingly.

Draco’s face turned bright red. “I...ahh...don’t know...what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Draco! Go home!” Pansy yelled, putting her hand on her friend’s damp forehead and giving him a push.

“What was that, darling?” a voice came from behind her.

Pansy turned to find her pajama-clad husband entering the room. “Oh. Nothing,” she said. “I mean...it was Draco, actually. He wanted to know why we didn’t tell them sooner.”

Dudley nodded. “He’s angry.”

“No, but...hurt, I think,” she said. “We should have known we could count on friends and family.”

The blond man shrugged. “Well, we weren’t sure and...well, family hasn’t been very reliable,” he said, wrapping his arms around her.

Pansy nodded, then leaned into her Muggle husband. “True.”

“It was my fault. I’ll do what I can to make it up to him. And I’m sorry I put you through that,” he said, putting her at arm’s length so he could look into her eyes.

The little woman smirked. “I can think of a way you can make it up to me,” she said, her mind on what she’d only partially seen through the Floo.

Dudley laughed and took her into his arms again. “I’m sure you can,” he said. “Come one, little witch, let’s go to bed.”

~ o ~

On the other side of the Floo, Harry caught Draco as he came completely back into their bedroom—not that it was all that difficult with their bodies currently joined. Moving quickly, the dark-haired man managed to lift them both up, then topple them onto the bed.

“You are in so much trouble, Potter,” the blond hissed.

Chuckling, Harry pulled out of his husband and rolled him to his back, then dove between his legs and pushed back inside. “Not now, Draco,” he said. “I’m busy.”

Draco growled—then groaned as Harry’s cock slid over his prostate, repeatedly stimulating it as he pushed in and out. “Oh! That’s...good.”

Harry grinned. He’d not been on top in a while, because they’d been trying—and failing—to get him pregnant, but when he’d seen Draco’s arse wiggling about through the Floo, he’d not been able to help himself. He just hoped Draco wasn’t too upset with him for taking advantage.

“It is, isn’t it,” he agreed with Draco, joining their mouths as he snapped his hips harder and harder—until he felt his husband’s body tense up, shudder several times as he released his pleasure between them, then go slack. In the next second, Harry came hard, deep in the blond’s now quivering body.

“I’d almost forgotten how brilliant that is,” Harry said some time later.

Close to recovered, Draco rolled his eyes. “It hasn’t been that long since you topped,” he said. “With reason...since we’re trying to get you up the duff.”

Harry frowned. “Maybe we...should stop trying,” he said, glancing at the man lying beside him. “I mean...it’s not happening, so...”

“Is that what you want?” the blond asked, his gray eyes full of concern.

“No, but...we’re getting older and...well, the kids are all nearly grown. It just seems—”

Draco snorted. “First of all, we’re wizards, Harry...we have a long time before we’re old. Secondly, we’re only thirty-eight...even Muggle women are still having babies in their thirties and forties these days. And third...the twins are only ten...far from being grown. If you want to keep trying, we should keep trying.”

Harry smiled. He appreciated the fact that Draco didn’t immediately agree to stop trying. “I think we should take a break, at least,” he said. “But not give up completely. I mean, we can still go at it, but...I’m tired of thinking about it 24/7.”

Draco nodded. “As am I. It’s exhausting.”

Harry nodded. “All right, we’ll stop trying,” he said as he turned and snuggled into his husband. “That was really nice...I feel boneless.”

“You’re still in trouble, Potter,” the blond grumbled, his eyes drooping closed.

“No one by that name here,” Harry murmured—then promptly drifted off to sleep.

Yawning, Draco followed suit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took me so long to post...it's been a rough couple. Shooting at a nearby bar...massive fires...then the holidays. And on top of all that, I have a new boss and work hasn't been the same. My shift times have been wacky and I'm really, REALLY tired from all the changes. And then there's the fact that I was HOPING to hear from more of you readers. *sigh*


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * time skip (one year)  
> * smut (aftermath only)  
> * teasing of parental units (by the kids)  
> * "private adult business"  
> * sorting letter

Next Generation at Hogwarts  
Sirius and Lyra (sixth and seventh of seven)  
Sunday, 1 September 2019

~ o ~

As usual, Draco and Harry Malfoy-Potter’s day started off with sex—wonderfully, glorious, brilliant sex!—while everyone waited for them downstairs in their lounge. It was September 1st—again—and the last two of their offspring were starting at Hogwarts for the first time.

No. Scratch that. Not the “last two” of their offspring, because Draco and Harry had a wonderful secret to reveal. Harry had finally been impregnated by Draco—after six years of trying—and they were deliriously happy! In fact, they’d found out the day before and they’d been celebrating now for just under twenty-four hours.

“That felt...brilliant!” Harry sighed, his body still shaking in the aftermath of yet another mind-blowing orgasm.

Slumped over on top of his husband, Draco moaned, his hips giving just a few last small twitches as he nodded. “Perfect. As always,” said the blond.

“Sooo perfect,” Harry agreed, his arms weaving up and around Draco’s sweat-dampened form. “After all these years.”

“And forever.”

“And always,” Harry said as he gave Draco another loving squeeze, then let his arms drop back onto the bed. “You’ve drained my strength.”

“You’ve drained my bollocks,” Draco countered.

Harry chuckled. “As you have mine,” he said, wiggling slightly and pulling a face at the cooling sticky mess between them.

“Make it go away then,” Draco said without moving.

A second later, Harry’d vanished it, with a grin.

“That is so hot,” Draco said. “The wandless magic, I mean.”

“Well, you know...I’m hot,” Harry countered, still grinning.

Draco snorted as he rolled off of his husband of ten years and seven and half months and lay sprawled beside him—his eyes twinkling with happiness. “We need to tell them, love,” he said.

Harry chuckled. “Excited much?

Draco snorted again—trying to sound like excited was beneath him.

“Yeah, me too,” Harry responded, his grin relaxing into a contented smile.

Rolling to face his husband, the blond looked skeptical. “Just wait until you’re heaving up your breakfast...or lunch and supper.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “It won’t be that bad.”

Draco snorted again. “Do you even remember when I was pregnant with Sirius and Lyra? All the times I was sick?”

“Yes. All the while professing that you were fine.”

“I was fine, but...you’ll see. That part...not something to be excited about.”

“Oh come, Draco, it’s just pregnancy.”

Draco laughed. “You say that now.”

“Hmm. I’m not worried. I can take it.”

“Of course you can. If I could do it four times, you can do it this once,” the blond said encouragingly.

Harry nodded. “And...I think we should hold off. On telling anyone,” he clarified. “Just in case. I read that the chances of a miscarriage at this point are nearly 33%.”

Draco frowned. “You read that?”

Harry chuckled. “Well no...Hermione and I may have been discussing pregnancy and—”

“You told her?” Draco demanded, sitting bolt upright.

“Nooo. I didn’t say anything. Like I promised I wouldn’t,” Harry argued. “But she’s known for ages that we’ve been trying, sooo....”

Draco huffed. “So?”

“So, by my calculations, I’m at about three and half weeks. If we wait until six weeks, the chances of a miscarriage go down to about 16%. And by Halloween...down to 2%.”

Draco’s eyes widened. “You wish to wait until All Saints’ Day to tell people?”

Harry shrugged. “I don’t know, Draco. I’m just...shouldn’t we...you know, see how things go first? I would hate to tell everyone...especially the kids...and then lose the baby and have to tell them that too.”

Draco frowned again, then nodded. “That makes sense, I suppose.”

Smiling, Harry rolled onto his side...and then onto his beautiful blond husband. “Let’s just play it by ear, yeah?” he said as he peppered kisses over Draco’s beautiful face and neck.

On his back now, eyes closed, Draco grinned. “All right. Sounds good. Just...keep...doing that, Potter.”

“Forever?” the dark-haired man asked as he moved so that he could flip Draco to his belly.

“And always,” Draco responded—then moaned obscenely as Harry’s strong hands and fingers began to dig into his back.

Harry grinned. “The sounds you make when I do this are completely obscene. I love it!”

Draco moaned again. “You just love torturing me,” he said, maneuvering himself to his back again, so that he could look up into the eyes of the man he loved. “So. We wait a bit.”

Harry nodded. “I don’t think I could stand to tell them...then have to tell them it’s not happening.”

Draco nodded. “I get it.”

Harry sighed, relieved, then leaned down and kissed the blond again.

“And...it’s called foetal resorption, Potter...not miscarriage. For a magical essence pregnancy,” he said between kisses.

Harry rolled his eyes at his husband’s correction, but ignored that part. “Where does the foetus even go anyway?” he asked.

“It’s absorbed into the body, by the cells and tissues,” Draco said quietly, frowning.

Harry noticed—of course. “You okay?”

Draco sighed. “It’s just...the first time, when I was told it was a possibility, I had hoped that.... But now, thinking of Caelum and how wonderfully perfect he has been for me and my life...our lives...I’m just so...” His eyes filling with tears, he let his words trail off.

Understanding, Harry gathered Draco into his arms and held him. “I think most men would have the same thoughts, but...you saw it through, right?”

Draco nodded against his chest.

“You could have ended it each time. Four times. But you didn’t. And you’ve been a brilliant father!”

“I...thought about it,” the blond admitted. “Taking the potion to eliminate the pregnancy, I mean. I just...couldn’t.”

Harry squeezed his husband. “No one would have blamed you, Draco.”

The blond swallowed. “I’m sooo glad I didn’t, but...it was so hard at first,” he whispered. “And then...it was just my life.”

Harry grinned. “And I am sooo thankful you were...are...so strong.”

Draco smiled and opened his mouth to say more, but...

THUMP, THUMP, THUMP!!!

“Dads!” came Lyra’s voice from the other side of the closed door.

“Come ON!” hollered Sirius, who was obviously standing right beside her.

“Coming,” Harry called out as he rolled over and moved to get up.

Another few hard knocks, hit in quick succession, came before they could get to the door.

“All right already!” Draco hissed as he too got up. After throwing on a robe that was not his—and wiping the wetness from his eyes—he went to the door and yanked it open, then glared at not just two, but six of their offspring—the annoying pack of cretins were all standing there. “Impatient much?!” he growled.

Orion and Corvus grinned. They were sixteen years old now and much wiser in the ways of the parents—and neither were shy to let their fathers know it.

“Just getting in one last poke?” they asked in unison.

“...before shipping us off,” Corvus continued.

“How surprising,” said Orion.

“Not really,” Corvus followed quickly. Both boys snickered.

Scorpius just stood there silently shaking his head and tsking. Beside him was Aria was doing the same.

“Dad, could you two please put on your clothing and find your way to the breakfast table?” Lyra asked as she eyed her father’s robe.

“Like, sometime this morning!” demanded Sirius.

“Like, before it’s too late and you have to Apparate us all to Hogwarts,” Lyra grumbled.

“Which would be a shame for Lyri and Siri’s first trip there, yeah?” Aria went on. “To miss the train and not get to experience the boats.”

“Not to mention embarrassing,” Scorpius added.

“Too late!” Orion quipped—then gestured at their father’s attire. “And, could you, you know, put on something of your own?

“...instead of tossing on dad’s robe...without even attempting to hide the fact that you’re start bullock naked under there,” Corvus said, completing his twin’s sentence.

Draco sighed. “All right already! Fine. Just...give us fifteen minutes to get dressed.”

Corvus snorted.

“Since when can you get dressed in fifteen minutes, Dad?” Orion quipped.

Draco huffed. “I can. I promise. Twenty minutes max.”

All six kids rolled their eyes—but backed off and headed downstairs.

~ o ~

Down in the kitchen, Caelum was just finishing up breakfast prep for the Malfoy-Potter horde when Teddy breezed in like a whirlwind—banging into everything like always.

“Hiya,” the blue-haired young man greeted when he saw the eldest of his cousins.

“Hey! You’re here,” said Caelum as he opened up the oven and pulled out what he’d been keeping warm.

“Well, HELLO! September first. First day at Hogwarts for Sirius and Lyra. ‘Course I’m here,” Teddy said with a grin. “And...you know...breakfast!” he continued, moving further into the kitchen to help his cousin—and help himself to a link (or three) of sausage, then pulling a face at the doneness of the meat. “Why you using the oven when warming charms work just as good and don’t overcook the food?”

Caelum chuckled. Teddy had quite an appetite—especially when there was meat involved. “Here, you take the toast and hash browns,” he said, shoving Teddy toward the counter. “I don’t trust you with the bacon and sausage. And, if the parents could get down here at a proper time, then there’d be no need to keep anything warm.”

Teddy shook his head. “Punish everyone because Draco and Harry refuse to get out of bed? Seriously not cool,” he said as he reached out and snagged a piece of bacon and shoved it in his mouth, grinning at Caelum’s glare. “Mmm. Food,” he said while chewing. “Plus. You know I can’t help myself when there’s meat being served.”

“Hey, just because your father was a werewolf, doesn’t mean you have to use that as an excuse for your voracious meat fetish.”

Still grinning, Teddy attempted to grab more bacon, but Caelum pulled back the platter and glared again. “Table,” he said, pointing with his free hand. “Go!”

Laughing now, Teddy picked up the plate of toast and hash browns and headed into the dining room.

“Okay. So. Tell me about Victoire,” Caelum said as they set the food on the table. “Is she...?”

Blushing, Teddy sighed and dropped down into his usual chair. “Yeah. She is.”

“Eesh. Grandma Molly’s going to hit the roof,” said Caelum.

“I’m more worried about Vic’s parents! Her father, to be more exact.”

Caelum waved a hand dismissively. “Naw, Uncle Bill and Aunt Fleur won’t be too upset. They know you two are serious. I mean, you two have been together since forever and...the wedding date is set, so.... But Grandma? Eesh.”

Teddy rolled his eyes. “You said that already, Cael. Thanks a lot.”

Caelum grinned. “No problem...Dad,” he ribbed. Then, seeing that Teddy was quite distraught, he tempered his teasing. “Hey. Relax. It’ll be fine.”

“Oh Merlin. This is real, isn’t it?” Teddy said, head in his hands.

“What’s real?” another asked.

Caelum and Teddy turned to see the rest of their pack entering the dining room, then glanced at each other.

“Um. Private adult business,” Caelum covered. “Not for underage ears.”

Orion snorted. “Yeah. Right.”

“Because you two are sooo adult,” Lyra put in sarcastically, flipping one of her strawberry-blonde ponytails.

Sirius snickered.

“Fine. Don’t tell us,” said Scorpius, giving them a bored look.

“But you know you want to,” Corvus taunted.

“Why’s it private anyway?” Aria asked. “Don’t we all always tell you two everything?”

“Yeah. Come on, you guys,” Lyra pleaded.

Caelum frowned and looked over at Teddy—who sighed and shrugged. “Whatever.”

“Okay, but this...it stays between us,” Caelum said, making a circling gesture at all of them. “You can’t tell the parents yet...any of them.”

The six younger siblings all nodded and took on serious looks. “Okay,” they agreed in unison.

Caelum looked at Teddy and again and waited, but Teddy shook his head. “You tell them.”

“Teddy’s...going to be a daddy,” Caelum revealed, his voice barely above a whisper.

Everyone’s eyes widened—then the girls squealed and ran to hug their cousin. “Oh Merlin!” Lyra said. “That’s wonderful news.”

“I don’t know about that,” Teddy said. “The family’s going to kill me.”

“They’ll get over it,” Aria said. “I mean, they’ll have to, right?

Teddy shrugged. “I suppose.”

“Congratulations Teddy,” Aria went on. “I’m excited for you and Victoire.”

“Have you told your gran yet?” Scopius asked. “Mine would have a coronary.”

Orion snorted. “Well, of course, because you’re only thirteen.”

Scorpius gave his brother and exasperated look. “I meant, if any one of us were to turn up with child at just twenty-one.”

Teddy’s face turned ashen—which prompted Aria and Lyra to glare at Scorpius for his lack of tact.

“Nice move,” Aria said.

“Yeah, for someone sooo smart, you sure put your foot in your mouth this time,” continued Lyra.

“As if Grandmere could say anything when her own son landed pregnant at nineteen and had a baby at twenty, then had six more of us in seven years,” Corvus put in.

“Not really the same, since Father couldn’t actually control it,” Scorpius countered, “but...did you tell her? Your gran, I mean.”

“No. I was only supposed to tell Cael. Vic said Cael was okay, but then you all just...barged in.” Teddy sighed. “Gran is going to be sooo disappointed in me.”

“No, she won’t,” Caelum argued. “You’ve finished your schooling and have a good job lined up and Victoire’s only got one year left of training and...the wedding is nearly finished being planned.”

“Yeah. You might not have planned this, but...you guys will be brilliant parents,” Aria put in. “I have total confidence in the two of you.”

All the siblings nodded.

“You got this, buddy,” Sirius said with a grin, hugging Teddy again.

~ o ~

“Well, I’m off. Have to meet up with Victoire,” Teddy told everyone as they were preparing to head out to the train station. He wrapped his scarf around his neck and held his head up stoically, but the seven in the know could see his discomfiture—as if he were certain Draco and Harry could feel that he was keeping something from them. “We have...some shopping to do,” he explained—just in case Harry and Draco wondered why he wasn’t accompanying them to King’s Cross. “Then lunch with Gran and Vic’s parents.”

“More wedding planning?” Draco asked.

“Something like that,” Teddy responded without looking at his cousin.

Draco eyed Teddy suspiciously, but Harry cut the blond off before he could say anything else.

“Oh fun. Okay then,” the green-eyed man said as he reached out and hugged his godson. “Give Andromeda our love, would you? I suppose we’ll see Bill and Fleur before you do though, yeah?”

Teddy nodded. “Yes, they’ll be seeing Dom and Louis off this morning, of course.” He tried to avoid glancing at Caelum, who was attempting to feign nonchalance—he knew Caelum both wanted to see Dominique before she left for her last year at Hogwarts and, at the same time, didn’t want to see her—but he couldn’t miss the younger man’s shoulders droop. And so he addressed him next... “Hey. Were you heading to the Platform with everyone or...would you like to join us shopping, Cael?”

“Um. Maybe shopping...if everyone’s all right with that?” he asked questioningly, his unsure eyes going to his family. All the kids nodded, but both Harry and Draco looked concerned.

“But it’s...September first,” Harry said, confused by the alteration of tradition.

“I...ahh...could use some shirts,” Caelum said. It wasn’t a lie.

Draco cocked his head, then realized why and shrugged. “I understand, Cael, but it’s her last year, so...are you sure?”

Caelum bit his lip. “Yeah...think so.”

Harry seemed to catch on at this point; this was about Dominique Weasley. “It’s fine, Cael,” he said. “Have fun with Teddy and Victoire. See you at home later?”

Sighing his relief, Caelum nodded. “Yeah. Later. I have an interview in the afternoon, so...I’ll be home to discuss...in the evening.”

Harry grinned at Caelum. “Brilliant. Can’t wait to hear about it,” he said, giving their son an exuberant hug, which jostled his own glasses—causing Draco to reach over and adjust them, which then caused Harry to smile warmly and then kiss his husband...until a throat was cleared.

“That’s enough, Dads,” Aria and Lyra scolded. “It’s time to—”

“Okay Malfoy-Potters!” Draco cut in. “Let’s get into your dad’s death trap of a vehicle and get going, so we’re not tardy.”

“There’d have been no chance of being ‘tardy’ if you two hadn’t spent so much time in the bedroom ‘getting ready.’ Honestly, you two are like rabbits!” Lyra snapped.

“What do you mean, death trap?” Harry asked, ignoring Lyra—for the moment. “Are we all not still alive and kicking, after all these years for traveling around in my ‘death trap’ car? And hey! No commenting on our bedroom activities,” he said, addressing Lyra’s remark.

Orion snorted. “Anyone who lives in our house has the right to have commentary on general observations of you two in the home.”

“Especially since you guys don’t bother to keep your ‘activities’ in the bedroom a lot of the time,” Corvus continued.

“And forget to close the door when you do use the bedroom,” Sirius added, snickering.

“And neglect to put up silencing charms...in any room in the house,” Lyra and Aria finished together.

Draco pursed his lips. “Are we heading over to the train station or should we just Apparate straight to the gates outside Hogwarts? I vote gates, so we can get rid of you cretins as quickly as possible.”

“DAD!” both Sirius and Lyra burst. “Seriously NOT cool!”

“All right then, let’s go!” the blond man said as he opened their front door.

And so they left.

~ o ~

The Malfoy-Potter arrival on Platform 9¾, or anywhere for that matter, wasn’t something anyone could hide. First of all, even without Teddy Lupin and Caelum present, Draco and Harry still had six of their offspring surrounding them, four boisterous boys and two gorgeous girls—which was more than most people had—talking and laughing and generally causing a ruckus. Not that they weren’t well-behaved, mind, because obviously no one related to a Malfoy would misbehave, but still...six kids were still SIX kids!

And secondly, people always noticed Harry Potter, their boy hero—even if he was a grown man—and made comments on how he’d married Draco Malfoy, an ex-Death Eater. Sometimes it was a nuisance, but both men had learned to ignore them.

“CORY!” came a shout from fairly far down the platform.

Corvus’ head whipped around, then he looked at his parents. “Can I go, Dads?”

Harry chuckled. “Hugs first.”

Corvus grinned and, without any embarrassment whatsoever, threw his arms around both his fathers. “Love you guys!” he said, then kissed their cheeks. “See you at Christmas!” And then he dashed off to meet up with his best friends; Reagan Nott and Fritz von Gerkan-Greengrass were waiting for him, so they could board the train together.

Watching the three boys hug, then disappear onto the train, Harry smiled, then glanced down at Scorpius. “You okay, son?”

Scorpius shrugged. He could see his mother down the platform with her sister. It was the same as the previous year—she looked over, but made no attempt to come see him. “I’m fine. Fritz isn’t so bad...Heike, on the other hand, is a bit of a—”

“Score,” Draco cut in warningly.

Scorpius rolled his eyes. “Dad. Relax. I wasn’t going to say anything bad. I mean, she’s okay too, I guess. I mean, Rose likes her, so she can’t be all bad, right?”

“Right!” Harry said, then reached out and roughed up Scorpius’ hair.

“DAD!” Scorpius whinged, immediately reaching up to rake his fingers through his hair in an attempt to fix the mess Harry’d made.

“What’s wrong with you, Potter?” Draco scolded as he pulled out his wand to repair Scorpius’ hair.

“Dad. It’s fine. Stop it,” Scorpius said, then grinned. “Enough fathering...until Christmas.”

The two men nodded. “Have a good and productive term,” Draco instructed.

“And don’t forget to have some fun,” Harry added as the boy rushed off to find his friends.

“Hey, look Dads,” Orion interrupted, pointing. “I guess Caelum changed his mind.”

Down the platform they could see Caelum standing with a blushing Dominique Weasley, holding both her hands and grinning down at her. They could all see an exchange of words, then some kisses.

“Looks like they’ve figured it out,” Harry said happily.

“Not sure Bill’s all that pleased,” came Ron Weasley’s voice. He was standing right behind them.

“Hiya, Ron,” said Harry, taking his friend’s hand and shaking it, then hugging his wife. “Hermione.”

“Hi, you two,” she said. “One last time, yeah?”

Harry glanced at Draco, but managed a clipped nod without giving away their secret—or so he hoped.

“Where’s Scorpius?” Rose asked.

“Just ran off,” Harry informed the girl.

Rose frowned. “He didn’t wait?” she huffed, then turned toward her parents. “I see Adora and Heike, so...”

“Off you go,” Hermione said, kissing Rose’s forehead. “See you at Christmas.”

Rose grinned, then hugged her dad. “See ya!” Then she too ran off.

“Um. I see Thaddeus over there,” Orion said. “Looks like he’s still mooning over Rose, so...I’m gonna go.”

All the adult nodded.

“Write to us,” Harry called out as they watched Orion join Thaddeus Nott. “He’ll write, right?”

Draco rolled his eyes. “Maybe once a month, if we’re lucky.”

Harry sighed—then turned toward their three youngest. “Well, it’s finally time,” he said to Sirius and Lyra, who looked so completely excited. Aria was standing there too, one hand clenched on the back of Sirius’ shirt, the other holding Lyra’s hand, and grinning, obviously thrilled that this year she got to get on the train with the siblings she was closest to.

“Any questions?” Draco asked.

They shook their heads. “Nope,” they chorused.

“Nothing?” asked Harry.

“Naw,” Sirius said. “I mean...”

“...same song and dance, yeah?” Lyra finished.

Both dads smiled. “Yes, old hat for us, but new for you,” said Harry.

Sirius shrugged. “I think we got this,” he said.

Harry nodded. “I think you do.”

“Do you have everything?” Draco asked, hearing the train’s whistle blow.

“Think so,” Lyra said with a nod.

“Too late now, if we didn’t,” Aria added.

“Okay then,” Harry started. “Owl us.”

The three of them rolled their eyes. “Of course.”

“Go on then. Don’t miss the train,” Draco said, accepting and giving last hugs and kisses. “See you—”

“At Christmas!” their three youngest chorused. “Love you guys!”

And then they turned and ran to the train.

~ o ~

Okay...so!

DADS!

We’re writing this together, before we  
separate to go UP/down to our Houses.

YES...WE HAVE BEEN DIVIDED—

...but we will NOT let this put a wedge between us!

RIGHT NOW WE’RE SITTING AT LYRA’S HOUSE TABLE—

...sharing a quill and some parchment—

...AND BEING glared AT BY EVERYONE AT  
BOTH OUR TABLES!

So, let’s make this short and sweet...well, I won’t make  
you wait anyway...you have your second Slytherin...ME!—

...AND YOUR SECOND GRYFFINDOR...ME!

The train ride was brilliant!

HAGRID IS HUGE!

The boats were...a little rocky—

...BUT TOTALLY FANTASTIC!

The castle is beautiful!

THE FOOD WAS...OH MERLIN, THERE’S SOOO MUCH OF IT!

And I...WE...can’t wait for our adventures to begin!

WE’RE REALLY HERE!

Love you both sooo much!

^^YEAH, WHAT SHE SAID!

xoXO  
Lyra & SIRIUS

~ o ~

From left to right:  Caelum (graduated), Corvus, Orion, Teddy (graduated).............and.............Scorpius, Lyra, Aria, and Sirius!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Questions...concerns...comments (please)!


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * time skip (1 month, 8 days)  
> * House raid (all the school aged Malfoy-Potters to Ravenclaw Tower)  
> * no naughtiness (sorry)

A little extra tidbit that I had _nooo_ intention of writing/posting...

—as it’s totally and COMPLETELY (sort of/kind of) off topic—

...thanks A LOT, reader who wished for more on this particular character!

**Party, party!**

 

Saturday, 9 November, 2019

 

**~ o ~**

**Part I**

**(for Scorpius)**

 

****

 

“I don’t know how you expect to get into the Ravenclaw Common Room, Orion,” Sirius huffed as he and four of his six siblings trudged up the massive spiraling staircase ascending into Ravenclaw Tower. He was carrying the present he was giving Scorpius and a several sacks of Muggle party supplies. “Aria’s already said she’s not going to help us get in.”

 

Orion snorted a laugh. “We needn’t worry ‘bout that. I have a plan. A _brilliant_ plan!” he said. “And it doesn’t involve needing Aria in any way whatsoever. Not even a little bit.”

 

Aria rolled her very blue eyes and snorted. She’d have flipped her long blonde hair too, but she didn’t have a free hand. “And yet, you _insisted_ I come _all_ the way down to the entrance of your _silly_ little dungeons, so that we could all come up together...when you could have just let me stay in my Common Room and wait for you twats to invade my House,” she bitched from the back of the group—as she tugged on the 20+ inflated balloons she’d been convinced to drag from the dungeons, through the _entire_ castle, and up into Ravenclaw Tower.

 

Corvus chuckled. “She has a point, Rion” he said as he hefted his gift to Scorpius from one arm to the other. “Or you could have had this impromptu party in Slytherin House’s Common Room. Some of us have never been in there.”

 

“Yeah. Like me!” Sirius grumbled, sending a glare at Lyra. “Because _someone_ never offered her twin a tour.”

 

Lyra snickered. “No Gryffindors allowed,” she teased.

 

“That’s not fair!” Sirius grumbled. “Did I, or did I not, let you into _my_ Common Room just last week?”

 

“Well yes, but...I _needed_ you,” she said.

 

Sirius rolled his eyes. “I’m sure your Slytherin girl drama could have waited until the next morning at breakfast.”

 

Lyra pouted. “Okay then, I _wanted_ to see you...right then, so....”

 

“And I wouldn’t say _let_ in,” Aria said, putting her two Knuts in, “she _sneaked_ in...under Dad’s invisibility cloak, on the coat tails of _your_ oblivious arse, because you weren’t paying attention! Silly Gryffindor.”

 

Lyra giggled. “Truth.”

 

“Anyway... _our_ House Head said no,” Orion interrupted the three youngest. “Too short of notice to have this in Slytherin and this was totally last minute. But he said next time...if we give proper notice. And, I had you come down to the dungeons, Aria, because we needed you to bring up the balloons,” he insisted, grinning.

 

“So...you _did_ need me!” Aria snapped.

 

Orion grinned over his shoulder. “Just shut it and hurry up,” he ordered.

 

“Pfft!”

 

“Hey. I’m the oldest here, so you have to do as you’re told,” Orion demanded—in his best big brother voice.

 

Aria gave him an annoyed look, but Lyra sighed. “I wish Caelum and Teddy could be here,” whinged the younger girl.

 

“If _they_ were here, then _you two_ wouldn’t be,” Orion argued, his eyes going to Lyra and Sirius. “Their time here is done...it’s your turn now.”

 

Lyra grinned. “Truth. I just...miss them.”

 

Aria nodded. “We _all_ do.”

 

“We’ll see them at Christmas,” Corvus put in.

 

“Stop being such... _girls_ ,” Sirius teased.

 

“Hey! We ARE girls!” Aria and Lyra yelled in union.

 

Sirius rolled his eyes. “I hope Victoire has a boy. No more girls in this family, please.”

 

He was just taunting them, of course, but he got a slap from both his sisters. “Shut it, you!” Lyra said.

 

“Wouldn’t want to be caught by a tripping jinx and roll all the way back to the bottom of the tower, now would you?” Aria added.

 

“Careful there...don’t drop Score’s cake,” Sirius said to his twin.

 

“Okay, here we are. What’s your _oh-so-brilliant_ plan to get yourselves into _my_ Common Room?” Aria asked as they came to a stop in front of her House door—huffing when the door cracked open and Thaddeus Nott poked his head out. “Oh. I see. Someone _else_ is the cheat,” she said, glaring at her housemate.

 

“Right on time,” the fifteen year old Ravenclaw boy said to the group. He pulled the door open fully and beckoned them all in. “Scorpius went down to his room to study, so that’ll give us time to decorate,” he said with a grin. He was mostly looking at Orion, but then he noticed the balloons. “Great, you got the balloons! I was worried that healum stuff wouldn’t work here at Hogwarts.”

 

Corvus laughed. “It’s HELIUM! And it was a bitch to convince Dad to get it for us.”

 

Thaddeus waved his hand dismissively. “ _Whatever_.”

 

“Yeah, it comes in a metal tank and it’s pretty heavy. Much too heavy for an owl,” Orion informed his friend. “Dad had to actually _bring_ it to Hogsmeade himself, because he said he couldn’t use magic on it...to make it smaller or lighter. Something about the compressed gas not being able to be compressed any further.” Frowning, he scratched his messy dark hair. “Not sure why a _helium_ tank is so heavy anyway...isn’t helium really light? I mean, it makes balloons float.”

 

“Yeah... _balloons_ , dummy...not a big heavy metal tank,” Aria said, giving her older brother a look of disbelief. “I think you sampled a little too much of that helium while blowing up the balloons, you helium head,” she teased.

 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Orion said in a high-pitched voice.

 

“ _Anyway_ ,” Corvus cut in, “Dad met up with McGonagall and she brought it to us.”

 

Thaddeus shrugged and repeated himself. “ _Whatever_.”

 

Inside the Common Room, Aria glanced around. “Where _is_ everyone?”

 

“Out,” Thaddeus said—then explained. “As soon as Scorpius left, everyone else dispersed. Some are in the dooms studying and others went down into the castle to bring up their friends. Since it’s four days before his Birthday, Scorp suspects _nothing_!” Thaddeus grinned. “And Flitwick approved an all-House party and said we could invite anyone to Scorpius’ Birthday party as long as they bring at least a token gift,” he finished triumphantly.

 

Lyra snorted. “I suppose you asked Adora to bring Rose then?”

 

“Well yes, I did, but...it’s not like that,” said Thaddeus, his eyes going to Orion, then quickly back to the entire pack of Malfoy-Potters. “Not anymore,” he finished.

 

Lyra narrowed her eyes. “What aren’t you telling us, Nott?”

 

Orion stepped in then. “Just decorate, little sister,” he said quickly, taking the cake out of her hands and setting it down on a nearby table, then frowning. “Where’s the food? We can’t very well have a Birthday party with no food!”

 

“It’s coming,” Corvus insisted. He’d been in charge of the eats. “I asked the House-elves to wait until we’d gained admittance to the Common Room before they brought everything up...just in case Scorpius was still in here. And...you know...just in case we didn’t actually _get_ in and had to move our little party elsewhere. Like an empty classroom or something.”

 

Orion huffed. “O ye, of little faith,” he said, shaking his head. “I have connections, you know? _Deep_ connections.”

 

Lyra looked at her brother suspiciously—then glanced at Thaddeus and frowned. The Ravenclaw boy had turned his back and was pilfering through the sacks of party goods. “Can I use magic on this Muggle stuff?” he asked, holding up a bunch of colorful things that he had no idea how to use.

 

“Um. Yeah, I think so...” Orion said as he turned away from his sister and looked over Thaddeus’ shoulder. “Dad always does at home, so...I’m assuming we can too.” He reached into the bag and pulled out the party horns. “Not these though. We just blow into these,” he said, then put it in his mouth and blew it into Thaddeus’ face.

 

Thaddeus cringed at the loudness of the object, then grabbed the horn out of Orion’s mouth and tossed it on the table. “Shush, would you...or Scorpius will hear you!”

 

Aria burst out laughing. “Not bloody likely! Not from all the way out here, he won’t. If Score went to his room, then he’s about as far away as he could be while still being inside Ravenclaw Tower,” she said—then she started clearing off another table. “We’ll put the food here.”

 

“And the presents here,” Sirius said as he dumped his gift to Scorpius on another table, then plopped down into a chair. “Not very comfortable, this,” he complained.

 

Aria rolled her eyes. “Our Common Room is mainly used for studying. Comfort is secondary.”

 

Sirius rolled his eyes. “Bor _ing_ ,” he drawled—then bounced a bit trying to get comfortable. “Is that all you Ravenclaws do...study? That’s just...frightful.”

 

Thaddeus chuckled. “That’s about all Aria does, but...obviously you know that.”

 

Aria rolled her eyes again, much more dramatically this time. “That is not all I—”

 

“And, you know, if you keep doing that...with your eyes...they’ll just start wobbling around in your head uncontrollably,” Sirius teased his sister. “You know, like those silly Muggle bobblehead dolls the dads brought us back from across the pond.” He demonstrated, bobbling his head around while grinning.

 

Aria just glared this time—but was soon distracted when the Common Room door swung open to admit the first group of non-Ravenclaws. It was a bunch of Gryffindors—Dominique, Fred II, Louis, Molly, Rose, and Hugo Weasley among them—as they were the House in closest proximity. And seeing his housemates, Sirius jumped up and went to greet them.

 

Not long later they were joined by their friends and family from the other two Houses, filling up the Ravenclaw Common Room with a noisy bunch of teens and preteens. For a short time they chatted, but then got down to business with the decorating.

 

And then Corvus went to his twin and whispered something that made Orion blush.

 

Nodding, Orion leaned over to Thaddeus and said, “Okay then...may be time to go find Score.”

 

Thaddeus nodded and excused himself.

 

**~ o ~**

 

****

 

Quickly, Thaddeus Nott had made his way out of the Common Room and down into the boys’ dorm area. Once downstairs, he saw that the gathering area was filled with Ravenclaw boys who didn’t relish the idea of spending their Saturday night with a bunch of rowdy non-Ravenclaws—in their own Common Room, no less! Some had gone to their rooms, while others had gone out into the castle to meet up with others. Thaddeus felt slightly guilty about being part of helping his friends commandeer Ravenclaw space, but everyone seemed to like Scorpius enough, so...he shook it off and kept on toward the third year dormitories.

 

At the door, he tapped lightly, then cracked the door open and poked his head inside without waiting for a reply.

 

“Hey guys,” he said to those inside the room. He’d asked two of Scorpius’ dorm mates for assistance. Deacon and Declan Byrne—yet another set of twins—had happily agreed to distract their moody friend—with a game wizard’s chess apparently.

 

The three boys looked up. “Hiya!” the twins said in unison—the way two born together often did. They were nice boys...not identical, but both very smart—obviously, or they wouldn’t both be Eagles—but one was more intellectual, while the other more creative and funny.

 

Scorpius just nodded. He mostly wasn’t one to talk much.

 

“Hey Score, Aria’s in the Common Room asking for you,” Thaddeus said.

 

Scorpius frowned. “Why didn’t she just come down?”

 

“Because she’s not allowed...you know that,” the older boy said with a laugh.

 

“Never stopped her before,” Scorpius huffed—Aria was always sneaking down to his room—but got up from the small table where he and the twins had their game board set out. “Let me just...put this away,” he said as he picked up a piece of parchment from his bed and stared at it for a moment, then folded it neatly in half.

 

Thaddeus watched him fold it a second time, then stuff it into an envelope. “From your mum?”

 

Scorpius sighed. “Yes,” he admitted, throwing the missive down onto his night table. “She seems to think that, after all this time, she can insert herself into my life. She’s asking to see me at Christmas.”

 

“Hmm. What do your dads think,” Thaddeus asked.

 

Scorpius frowned. “That I should maybe give her a chance, but...”

 

“You know, she probably just didn’t know how to handle your dad’s condition,” Thaddeus offered, trying to give Astoria Greengrass-Malfoy the benefit of the doubt, since the elder Malfoy-Potters seemed to suggest _giving her a chance_. “She probably didn’t know what she was getting herself into when she married your dad,” he continued. Anyone who hadn’t been living under a rock knew about Draco Malfoy-Potter’s condition—now anyway, but they hadn’t really until after Harry Potter came on the scene. Before then it was still very confusing. Poor woman was probably just thrown into it without much of a choice, given the way most pureblood betrothals went. “I’m sure she loves you, Score.”

 

“She has a strange way of showing it!” Scorpius snapped. “I mean, dad’s condition has been under control since Harry showed up when I was two! TWO! Then she gave me up less than three months later! I’d not have it any other way, mind, but...I’ll be fourteen in four days and she’s only just NOW starting to show some interest?! Pfft! As if I NEED her!” he ranted.

 

Thaddeus glanced at the twins. They managed to look both embarrassed and sorry for their friend. Clearly, they’d heard it all before. Sighing, he looked back at his younger friend and, sitting down on Scorpius’ bed, said, “Score. Maybe you should meet up with her and tell her how you feel...find a way to get to know her or...I don’t know, tell her to bugger off. Something. Or talk to someone else if you don’t want to see her. She has no rights to you now, so...it’s completely up to you and your dads. And...I’m sure your dads would gladly do _anything_ they could to make you happy, whether that’s keeping her away or helping you to see her.”

 

“That’s the thing though, I AM happy! My dads are great! _Fantastic_ even,” Scorpius said. “So...I’m not sure why I want to hex her silly.”

 

Thaddeus chuckled. “Well, guess it’s perfectly fine to be happy and still feel like hexing your mum.”

 

“She’s NOT my mum,” he argued. “She’s just...an egg donor.”

 

“She did carry you for nine months.”

 

Scorpius huffed. “An incubator then. I wish it had been Dad who’d carried me,” he complained. “Why do I have to be the only Malfoy-Potter kid who has a bio-mum?”

 

Thaddeus shrugged. Not really knowing how to respond, he said all he could think of. “I’m sorry.”

 

Sighing, Scorpius shrugged too. “Not _your_ fault. I’m just...being silly.”

 

Thaddeus pursed his lips, but didn’t say anything. He didn’t know what _to_ say.

 

“Okay then. Let’s go see what my sister wants,” Scorpius said, changing the subject. “She probably just wants me to study with her.”

 

Thaddeus grinned as he got up. “Probably.”

 

**~ o ~**

“SURPRISE!” everyone in the Common Room cheered when Scorpius made his entrance. Behind him, Thaddeus, Deacon, and Declan were all grinning.

 

“Happy early Birthday, Score,” the twins said in unison.

 

“You knew about this?” asked Scorpius with a grin.

 

“Of course,” Deacon said, nodding.

 

Also nodding, Declan shrugged. “Someone had to keep you busy while your silly brothers and sisters arranged this little party.”

 

“It was _their_ idea, actually,” Corvus piped in, pointing at Scorpius’ roommates. “The twins talked to Aria, who’d mentioned it to Lyra, who told Orion, who brought it to me...then we started planning. Even the parental units had a hand in this,” he finished with a gesture at the helium balloons tied all over the room.

 

“Did plan early enough to have this little shindig _elsewhere_ , mind you,” Aria complained—causing everyone to chuckle.

 

Scorpius smiled. “This is perfect though, guys! I really needed this. Thanks,” he said to Deacon and Declan, then turned toward the crowded room. “Everyone. Thank you sooo much!”

 

“Now, are we going to have a party or what?” Orion asked. “I’ve nicked some Firewhisky...for us elders only, of course. But there’s butterbeer for you toddlers.”

 

Several eyes rolled, but someone turned on the Wizarding Wireless Network for some music and everyone filled a plate with food, picked up a drink, and found a place to sit and enjoy their gathering.

 

**~ o ~**

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about any typographical errors...I've read this and re-read this over and over again, so I could not give it one more reading. Lol.
> 
> Oh! And I figured out how to use italics on AO3, so this chapter has more feeling (to me). Haha.
> 
> Anyway, tell me what you think.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * NO time skip (immediately follows previous chapter)  
> * Slight smut (not Drarry)

Another bit that has absolutely NOTHING to do with the main story!

I mean...like…ZERO! And maybe out of line too, since they’re just kids!

 

**Part of the Party!**

 

Saturday, 9 November, 2019

(still)

 

**~ o ~**

**Part II**

**(about Orion)**

 

“You’re not being _at all_ discreet, Ri,” Corvus said as he plopped down beside his brother after watching Thaddeus Nott get up and leave the Common Room. He’d been watching Orion and Thaddeus all evening—since Lyra had pointed out her suspicions, anyway—and was convinced that something _was_ going on between these two. Leave it to his eleven-year-old sister to notice things. But then, she did share a House with the guy, so....

 

Orion crossed his arms over his chest and averted his eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

 

“Come on, Rion, it’s obvious you fancy the bloke,” said Corvus, getting straight to the point. They might be twins, but Corvus didn’t always speak his mind when it came to his twin—or anyone, for that matter—but this time...this time he’d decided to just put it out there and see where it got him, because the last thing he wanted was to watch Orion struggling and suffering needlessly.

 

Orion’s head turned with a snap, his eyes narrowing into a glare at his brother. “Do not!” he quickly argued—then, “I _don’t_!” he barked when Corvus eyed him with disbelief.

 

“Yes. You do! Stop being so obstinate. Don’t you know you can’t lie to me? Or yourself, really.”

 

Orion downed his drink and looked away again. “Go ‘way, Cory,” he grumbled, hating the very rare occasions that Corvus decided to take a stand. Hufflepuff or no, Corvus could be quite stubborn when he’d made up his mind.

 

Frustratingly, Corvus chuckled at his words. “Come on, Ri. Are we not the product of two men? It’s not like our dads...or _anyone_ , as a matter of fact...are going give two shites if you like boys.”

 

“ _Thaddeus_ might,” Orion said grumpily, his eyes filling with emotion—not tears though—as he looked over at Thaddeus’ brother, Reagan, then back at his own brother. “He’s my friend and...he’s into Rose Weasley, so...last thing he’s wants is a bloke... _me_...his best mate...making eyes at him.”

 

Corvus laughed again, causing another glare to be shot his way. “And that’s why he’s been sitting here...on this sofa...all evening...with _you_?” Corvus countered. “I think, dear brother, that he’s not so into Rose Weasley anymore and...Merlin, she’s not _at all_ into him, so...you should tell him how you feel.”

 

Orion blushed crimson. “I’d rather not embarrass myself, thanks. Especially, if you’re wrong.”

 

Corvus sighed. “I’m not wrong—”

 

“But if you are,” Orion interrupted.

 

“I’m not,” Corvus repeated, “but...if you want to just sit here looking miserable, then fine...suit yourself, dumb arse.”

 

And with that, he got up and joined his friends. Reagan Nott and Fritz von Gerkan-Greegrass had just started playing some Muggle game called Quarters that promised to get them all schnockered and were gesturing wildly that he should join them. He kept looking over at Orion though, who’s eyes never left the archway that Thaddeus had disappeared through—and would eventually return from.

 

“What was that all about?” Reagan asked when Corvus pulled out a chair and sat down.

 

Corvus rolled his eyes. “Lame twin stuff,” he said.

 

Reagan snorted. “You mean lame _your-brother-likes my-brother-but-he-won’t-say-anything-because-he-thinks-my-brother-doesn’t-like-him-like-that_ stuff?”

 

Corvus’ eyes rounded. “Um. Yeah. Got it in one, you twat. How’d you know?”

 

Reagan glanced at Fritz—then the two boys burst into laughter. “Holy shite, Fritzy...you totally called it!” he said.

 

Fritz flipped him two fingers, then bounced his quarter into the cup. “Your turn to drink, tosser,” he said, pointing at Reagan.

 

Reagan down the last sip of his Firewhisky, then poured himself another shot.

 

“How could you guys miss them playing footsies over there?” Fritz asked between laughs. “They’ve basically isolated themselves...having their own private little party. They’re practically having a cuddle on that sofa! Hell, I wouldn’t surprised if one of them jumped up and started singing the Weird Sisters’ version of ‘I Want Your Sex.’”

 

Corvus and Reagan looked over. Thaddeus had just come back into the Common Room and he’d made a beeline for place where Orion sat waiting. Orion looked up at him, his face flushing nervously, and Thaddeus quickly dropped down on the sofa, sitting beside his friend again. Briefly, Orion’s eyes went to Corvus, who gave him a double thumbs up sign, then he looked back at his Ravenclaw friend.

 

“He’s fucking terrified,” Corvus whispered.

 

“Well...ahh... _Slytherin_!” Reagan said as he bounced the quarter and missed—so he drank. “They act all tough, but it’s only because they’re secretly shitting in their pants. Totally vulnerable, them.”

 

Fritz laughed. “Okay, tough guy, tell us about who _you_ fancy.”

 

Reagan blushed a little. “I...um. Not yet. Soon though. Maybe.”

 

Corvus and Fritz burst out laughing.

 

“Yeah sure, buddy...whenever you’re ready.”

 

“All in good time,” Reagan said—then grinned.

 

**~ o ~**

 

“So. Um. You wanna go see my dorm room?” Thaddeus asked quietly, his cheeks pinking just a bit. He was holding his cup of Firewhisky up close to his lips and barely shifted his eyes over towards his friend. “I mean, we don’t have to, but...I was just there and none of my dormies are in there, so....”

 

Orion glanced down at their thighs—which were pressed together from hip to knee—then shrugged, noticing that their shoulders were also touching. “Sure,” he whispered.

 

“I mean...it’d be much quieter in there,” Thaddeus explained. He didn’t know why they needed quiet to chat more, but....

 

Orion nodded. “Yeah. Sure. Sounds...”

 

“Great!” Thaddeus finished for his friend—maybe a bit more exuberantly than was necessary. For a second, neither moved—then Thaddeus pushed himself up and offered a hand to pull his friend off his arse. Orion took it without thinking. Once standing, they just stood there for a few seconds—looking at anything that was not each other.

 

“Refill?” Orion asked.

 

Thaddeus nodded. “Absolutely.”

 

Orion sighed his relief, then picked up a bottle and grinned. “Lead the way, mate.”

 

Thaddeus hesitated. “We have to...go through there,” he said with a gesture at a statue of Rowena Ravenclaw.”

 

Orion smirked. “Sort of figured,” he said, “when you went off that way to have a piss. I still find it odd that there’s no toilet off your Common Room though.”

 

Thaddeus frowned. “Yours does?”

 

Nodding, Orion said, “Two of them.”

 

“Hmm. That’s convenient.”

 

“Right?!”

 

“So. Shall we?”

 

Orion nodded—then followed when Thaddeus started walking across the Common Room. They had to weave their way through the bodies of partying people to get across. Right in the center of the Common Room, some of the furniture had been pushed aside and several people were dancing wildly right in their path, but they reached the statue quickly—it was much taller than Orion had surmised from the other side of the room. They then went through a short hallway and down a half-flight of stairs—eleven steps, Orion counted in his nervous excitement. There was a half flight going up as well—to the girls’ dormitories, Thaddeus had explained.

 

Downstairs, there were quite a few Ravenclaw boys just sitting around in a decent-sized gathering area. A few of them nodded at Thaddeus, but no one actually greeted them verbally. And other than a nod back, Thaddeus didn’t say anything to them either—possibly out of fear that someone would object to him bringing a Slytherin into their domain.

 

As they walked, the Ravenclaw boy pointed at the closed doors and told Orion which year was behind each.

 

“Your sister is this one. Ahh...upstairs, of course,” Thaddeus said as they went by. “Not in the boys’ dormitory. Though...she _has_ been caught down here looking for Score numerous times. That one’s... _persistent_ when she wants or needs something, yeah?”

 

Nodding, Orion laughed. “I’m not surprised by that. Just wait until you find a non-Ravenclaw Malfoy-Potter in here. It’s bound to happen now that you’ve allowed the lot of us up in your tower.”

 

Thaddeus harrumphed. “I wouldn’t be surprised by _that_ either. I am, however, surprised it’s not happened already.”

 

“That you know of,” Orion countered.

 

Thaddeus shook his head as they passed two more doors—one on the right and one on the left—and a study area before stopping at a third door, which was across from yet another study space.

 

“You guys study a lot,” Orion said.

 

Thaddeus chuckled. “Well, yeah. _Ravenclaw_ ,” he said, laying his hand flat on the door. “This is mine,” he said. “Um. I mean...I share it with four others, but...yeah, this is the fifth year dormitory.”

 

Orion nodded. “Where’s Score’s room?” he asked, as if to stall.

 

Thaddeus gestured further down the long, wide hallway, but didn’t take his eyes off Orion. “Last door on the left,” he said.

 

Orion pulled his gaze from his friend and briefly glanced down the hall, then looked back and smirked. “You going to let me in or are we just going to stand here chatting all night?”

 

Thaddeus laughed, embarrassed by his own obvious nervousness. He was stalling as well, of course.

 

“So, this is it,” he said as he opened the door and gestured that Orion should enter first. He followed slowly, watching as Orion walked in and turned around, his gray eyes surveying the room. It was rectangular in shape, with tall stone walls, the far side lined with windows—beyond which the wind could be heard whistling—and a ceiling so high that it could hardly be seen. That was, in part, due to the long wide strips of deep blue and bronze material hanging above, that twisted throughout the room, sort of obscuring the view of the ceiling, and also because the ceiling had a spell on it to make it appear far, far away. Obviously, it couldn’t be too far up, because the girls’ dormitories were just one floor above.

 

On the ground, there were several small yet plush area rugs of blue and bronze and five identical beds—two of which were on the left, while two were on the right, and one was on the far wall, each covered with a velvety blue comforter—all looking pristine. And, in the center of the room stood a heater, glowing with warmth.

 

“Hmm. It’s much more open in here,” Orion observed.

 

Thaddeus frowned. “How do you mean?”

 

“Well, the Slytherin fifth year dormitory is partitioned off, so each boy...or girl, I’d assume...has his or her own space.”

 

“Interesting,” said Thaddeus, more than a bit pleased that Orion didn’t seem to know for sure what the girls’ dormitories looked like.

 

“No actual doors though, so it’s easy to invade said space,” Orion said with a grin. “Our sixth year dorms are a little more private...we actually have true walls between us, but only curtains in the doorways.”

 

Thaddeus’ eyes widened. “Wow. That sounds much more conducive for studying.”

 

Orion shrugged. “I don’t know about that. I don’t spend all that much time in my room,” he said.

 

Thaddeus smiled. “Or studying?” he queried.

 

“Oh no...I study plenty or the dads would have my head.”

 

Thaddeus chuckled. “One of them would, I’m sure. I suspect the other wasn’t much of a studier himself.”

 

Both boys laughed.

 

“You suspect correctly. I’ve heard _countless_ stories about how Aunt Hermione was always on their case,” Orion said. “Dad and Uncle Ron were shite studiers. They passed everything though.”

 

“You want to sit?” Thaddeus offered, making a gesture between a chair and a bed.

 

Orion looked between the two pieces of furniture, then pointed. “That yours?” he asked, pointing at the bed he assumed was his friend’s.

 

Sitting casually upon it, Thaddeus nodded—causing Orion to grin, kick off his shoes, and flop down on it too, jostling his friend in the process.

 

“Nice,” he said as he budged up toward the pillows and made himself comfortable. He’d stretched out and crossed his ankles, while folding his arms behind his head. “About like mine,” he said as he closed his eyes, “just not green.”

 

Thaddeus was quiet for a moment, then he too slipped out of his shoes and shifted so that he was sitting cross-legged at the foot of his bed, Orion’s socked feet touching his knee. For a moment, Thaddeus stared at his hands—they were folded in his lap, because he wasn’t sure what to do with them—then he glanced up at his friend. Orion’s eyes were still closed, but he had a little smile on his lips.

 

And then Orion wiggled a bit—to get more comfortable, Thaddeus surmised—adjusting his feet so that they were in Thaddeus lap.

 

“There. That’s better,” Orion said, grinning now. “Could you...you know...rub the left one?” he said. “I kicked one of the tables out there. Toes are sore.”

 

Thaddeus stared for a moment, trying to figure out what Orion was up to, then glanced down at his friend’s foot—then back up to see Orion giving him a goofy grin.

 

Snorting a laugh, Thaddeus reached down and pinched his friend’s toe. “You liar!” his said, then tickled Orion’s foot.

 

Howling, Orion instantly yanked his foot from Thaddeus’ lap and sat up. “Think you’re funny, do you?” he asked as he reached out and grabbed his friend, manhandling him until he was lying flat on his back.

 

Thaddeus struggled a bit, then gave up when Orion sat forcefully on his upper thighs.

 

“I win!” Orion said, his gray eyes twinkling as he breathed heavily from the exertion.

 

Thaddeus laughed. “You usually do,” he said, not moving a muscle except for the ones that moved involuntarily for breathing. “Get off me, you twat.”

 

“I think not,” Orion said—then wiggled a bit. “I rather think you’re even more comfortable than this bed.”

 

Thaddeus snorted—then frowned when a certain part of his anatomy started to react to his friend pushing down on him. “Um. Ri. Please...get up.”

 

Orion seemed to notice at that exact moment what he was doing to his friend and started to move to get up—then stopped and stared down into Thaddeus’ eyes.

 

“Ri,” Thaddeus whined, trembling.

 

“Your eyes are...” Orion whispered.

 

“Brown?” Thaddeus offered.

 

Orion gave one tiny shake of his head. Thaddeus’ eyes weren’t just _brown_ , they were like...rich caramel or...gingerbread or... _something_ yummy. Maybe even chocolate, but...not that dark.

 

Anyway, Orion couldn’t really see any actual color in his friend’s eyes at the moment—especially in the low lighting—because the other boy’s pupils were _completely_ blown. “No. They’re...more,” he said lamely—and then he dropped his lips to his friend’s and silently prayed that he wasn’t shattering the friendship he shared with the boy lying beneath him.

 

Thaddeus didn’t move at first, but after a moment he sighed and allowed himself to join in on the kiss. As Orion’s lips moved over his, Thaddeus did what he did best—he took mental notes. The Slytherin boy’s lips were soft, yet firm—a bit forceful even—and it was wonderful!

 

Reaching up, Thaddeus wove his fingers into Orion’s dark hair and groaned—then whimpered when Orion pushed his hips down onto his erection.

 

“Orion,” he whispered. “We should...stop.”

 

Still kissing him, Orion shook his head. “Uh-uh. More,” he said as he ground himself into his friend.

 

“Someone...might come in,” Thaddeus whined, still accepting Orion’s kisses.

 

“Don’t care.” Orion kissed him again, then leaned back—then went for his neck. “Have you...done this before?”

 

Thaddeus shivered when Orion started nibbling just under his ear. “Not with boys,” he admitted. “You?”

 

Orion shook his head. “Me neither. It’s not... _different_.”

 

Thaddeus laughed. “Or the same,” he said, noting the roughness of Orion’s slightly stubbly jaw. It felt scratchy, but nice. Different.

 

Orion pulled his tousled head back—his hair was a disaster, as usual—and grinned. “Yeah. Not the same either,” he agreed—then rocked his hips and capturing Thaddeus’ lips again. “Can I...make you come?” he asked as he continued his rhythm, pushing their clothed erections together.

 

Whimpering some more, Thaddeus nodded. “Please.”

 

Grinning, Orion moved his hands between them—to open Thaddeus’ trousers—but the younger boy stopped him. “Someone might come in.”

 

Orion frowned a little—he could spell the door locked, but any competent fifth year could easily unlock it—so instead, he shrugged and just continued to push himself against this friend. This would work too.

 

For a moment, Thaddeus stared up into Orion’s gray gaze, but after one particularly pleasurable cant of his hips, his eyes drooped closed and he moaned. “Oh Merlin, Ri. That’s... _brilliant_!”

 

Thrusting almost wildly now, Orion panted as he pressed down on his friend. “Yes!” he all but shouted as he came. Slumping onto Thaddeus, he continued to thrust into him until the other boy moaned and shuddered, then twitched a bit.

 

For several minutes, they lay there boneless, enjoying the aftermath of their shared orgasms. It was wonderful.

 

And then the door opened and all four of Thaddeus’ dorm mates walked in—and burst out laughing.

 

“About time you fuckers figured it out!” one of them said before they all turned and walked out.

 

Still lying over his friend, Orion laughed.

 

“That obvious, are we?”

 

“Corvus thinks so,” Orion said.

 

Thaddeus groaned. “Oh Merlin.”

 

“Right?!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please tell me what you think!


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trying to get this posted before I go off to work. Not too pleased with it...very wordy and it doesn't flow like I'd hoped, but...I haven't posted in forever, so...
> 
> ...will come back and put up tags later.

**Christmas Surprises**

 

Tuesday, 24 December 2019

 

**~ o ~**

 

Harry’d been in the kitchen cooking for the greater part of the day. He’d insisted on doing it up the Muggle way—without any assistance from a House-elf—because he _knew_ how much Draco loved his cooking and...well, because he just sort of liked being in there cooking for his family.

 

And, with the kids all home from work and school, they had a full house again, which made Harry—and Draco—extremely happy!

 

Well, not _home_ home—at the moment—because they were all out doing some last minute Christmas shopping and/or visiting—much to Harry’s relief! Because, though he loved having them all around, the week had been hectic with the comings and goings of nine plus people—the plus being Teddy and Victoire Flooing in (daily), Narcissa Malfoy stopping by to visit (most days), and Ron and Hermione—and other various Weasleys—popping in (mostly unannounced) here and there. The week had been busy, to say the least!

 

Currently, Draco was in his study, getting a little writing done in the peace and quiet of only the two of them in the house (he had a deadline coming up for his most recent book about Magical Essence Pregnancies—his, to be specific—it was a tell all!), so Harry, having the kitchen to himself, was moving around the room as he cooked (sort of dancing—a bit awkwardly), humming to the music that he’d put on (at a semi-high volume), occasionally singing the words ( _completely_ out of tune) to whatever song he knew or especially enjoyed (which was a lot of them, since he’d tuned into his favorite Muggle station), and taste-testing his dishes as they cooked (to be assured of its quality—or so he told himself). And he was fixing _everything_!

 

Turning, Harry became aware that Draco was standing there watching him with an amused—and completely besotted—smile. Blushing he said, “Oh...er...hi.”

 

Pushing off the door frame, Draco said, “It’s really not fair that you look _this_ good,” as he moved toward his husband and wrapped his arms about him. “You look divine, love. I’d really like to devour you right here in the kitchen,” the blond said as he took Harry’s mouth.

 

Harry chuckled into the kiss. “Shut it, you,” he responded, his blush deepening as he returned his husband’s ardent kisses.

 

“It’s true though,” Draco said. “You look...perfect.”

 

Harry snorted a bit. “I’ll sure _feel_ better when I can stop hiding myself behind all the loose-fitting clothing, because this is just a little too frumpy, even for me. But...thanks for that.”

 

Tugging at the dark-haired man’s _a little too large_ pullover, Draco laughed. “You don’t look bad at all, love...though, I too will be relieved when all this secrecy is over. Do you know how many times this week I’ve wanted to touch your belly, just to be close to the baby?”

 

“Probably as many times as I’ve had to resisted touching it myself,” said Harry, his green eyes twinkling.

 

“That’s over tonight though,” Draco said, capturing Harry’s lips again. “Mmm. You taste heavenly,” he said after the kiss. “What _are_ you making?”

 

Harry licked his lips and said, “Oh. Dessert. German chocolate cake. Sirius and Lyra’s favorite. Late birthday cake. Just put it in the oven, but I was...er...licking batter off the utensils.” He blushed again. “I hate that we missed their day.”

 

“Can’t be helped...with them off at Hogwarts now. We missed Scorpius’ birthday too,” Draco said with a smile before he _kissed_ Harry again, then nibbled at the corner of his lips where some of the cake batter had gotten left behind. “Very tasty, you are,” he said.

 

“Not all that pretty, this sort of cake,” Harry said with a frown as he thought about dessert—a brown cake with caramel-colored topping. “I think I’ll put together something else to go with it. What would your mother enjoy?” he asked.

 

 

 

 “Anything, Harry. You know you can do no wrong where Mother is concerned,” Draco said.

 

“Hmm. And what about _Father_?” Harry queried, saying the last work as if Lucius Malfoy were a parent shared by the two of them.

 

Draco snorted. “Well, you know my father.”

 

“I’m sure he’s thoroughly displeased that Narcissa is _dragging_ him here tonight. I don’t think he’d leave The Manor if he didn’t have to...especially to come _here_.”

 

Draco rolled his eyes. “Don’t be daft. He was here just last week.”

 

Harry snorted. “Yes. To _lecture_ us about...” he started—but stopped and frowned. “No. Scratch that. He never _once_ looked at me or addressed me. He was here to lecture _you_ about proper pureblood marriages and the unseemliness of public affection.”

 

Draco laughed a bit. “Well, we _were_ a bit overzealous that day on Diagon Alley.”

 

Harry chuckled. “That we were. Ron about lost his lunch.”

 

Draco grinned. “Watching Weasley is always an amusement. Well, except when he’s eating. That’s just....” Draco shuddered with disgust.

 

Harry rolled his eyes. “Be nice.”

 

“Always, dear.”

 

“ _When_ always?”

 

Draco shrugged. “ _Anyway_. Back to my father. You know he can’t help himself and you know I ignore ninety-nine percent of what he has to say.”

 

Harry sighed. “It’s still annoying and...well, I hope he behaves with the children around,” he said.

 

“I doubt it, but you know the children don’t let him get away with any of that holier than thou shite, so...we should be good,” Draco said. “In any case, that is why I’ve purchased Father’s two favorite wines, to be served with our meal... _and_ the finest Firewhisky I could locate for during and after our announcement.”

 

Harry sighed. “Best get him schnockered at dinner...he’s not going to be in an agreeable mood, is he?”

 

Grinning, Draco brought his mouth to Harry’s again and kissed him deeply, then leaned back. “Mostly likely not...not that he’ll _arrive_ agreeable, but yes, that’s the plan. Lots of booze. Heavy announcement. _More_ booze. But Mother will make up for Father’s unpleasantness, I think. She’s going to be _so_ pleased for us.”

 

Harry nodded. “And the children...they’ll be excited too. And then we’ll have to let everyone else know before it gets out.”

 

“Immediately,” Draco agreed. “I shuddered to think about the papers getting a hold of this news. And Pansy’s going to be positively furious that we’ve hid it this long.”

 

“We’ll have them over next. As soon as our lot go back to school,” Harry said. “I’m dying to see little Flora again, so...”

 

Draco grinned. “She sure was a smooshed up thing the day she was born,” he said. They’d gone to the hospital the day Flora Dursley had come into the world eight months prior, but things had been busy and they’d only had a chance to visit twice since—and Pansy was simply livid in her fury.

 

“Hmm. Newborns usually are. Well, the ones that have to be born via the birth canal,” he corrected with a smirk.

 

“Still planning to suffer the pain of waiting for our child to Apparate him or herself out of that belly?” Draco asked with a nod down at Harry’s tiny hidden bump.

 

Harry shrugged. “I know how much it means to you, love...to know if he or she is magical, so...yes.”

 

Draco smiled, his eyes full of love.

 

Smiling as well—though more of a smirk—Harry continued. “Besides, if _you_ can do it _four_ times, then I think _I_ can manage it _once_!”

 

Draco harrumphed. “We’ll see.”

 

Harry laughed—then reached out and pulled his husband into his arms. “Now, I think we have time for a little...” the dark-haired man said as he brought his lips to the ticklish place on his husband’s neck.

 

Draco grinned. “There’s nothing I’d like more,” he said—then Apparated them both to their bedroom.

 

**~ o ~**

**~ o ~**

 

“So, we’ll have another dinner party week after next,” Draco said an hour later, continuing their previous conversation as he set a flower arrangement at the center of their dining table and picked at it a bit, making sure it was just so.

 

As he finished putting out the silverware, Harry frowned. “Hmm. After tonight, what’s the chance they don’t hear it from someone else?” he asked. “I mean, between Teddy and your mother, Andromeda and her husband are going to know. And, between Teddy and Victoire and Andromeda and Arnold Weasley, _all_ the Weasleys are going to know. There’s _no way_ they’ll all keep their mouths shut.”

 

“Seems Teddy’s the issue in all this. Maybe we shouldn’t have invited my little cousin tonight,” said Draco.

 

Harry laughed. “We couldn’t do that! He’s one of our kids. And your mother...I bet she sends Andromeda an owl as soon as she gets home tonight.”

 

“True, but....” Draco sighed.

 

“And, after the kids go back to school and tell _everyone_...including all the Weasley kids...do you _really_ think there’s _any_ chance that Ron and Hermione won’t be here, banging our door down, demanding to know why they weren’t told?”

 

Draco laughed. “Maybe we should have just invited everyone and gotten it all over with in one go,” he said.

 

Harry chuckled. “I did suggest that, but...as you pointed out, your father’s going to be upset enough as it is, so...best not add any Weasleys, hmm?”

 

“What do you think of those Muggle birth announcements?” Draco asked. “We could just send them out tonight after everyone’s gone.”

 

“And no dinner party? Hmm.”

 

Draco shrugged. “Just a thought.”

 

Harry nodded. “A good thought. You know I’m not a fan of entertaining, so...I _like_ it!”

 

“Mind. The moment they’re received, you _know_ we’re going to have everyone here demanding to know why they weren’t told sooner,” Draco said with a frown.

 

“We could make a game of it...between the two of us,” Harry suggested. “We’ll place a few bets on who’ll arrive first and...”

 

“...who’ll be the angriest?” Draco grinned.

 

Harry all but giggled. “Then owl everyone the announcements...”

 

Draco’s face brightened. “Spelling them so they can’t be opened until all those receiving them have them in hand, of course...”

 

“Then sit down in front of a roaring fire and see what happens.”

 

They both laughed. “Sounds a bit...evil.”

 

“Sounds like a fabulous plan,” said Draco.

 

“You’re such a wicked man.”

 

Draco raised a brow. “Ahh...Slytherin.”

 

“Hmm. Yes, but there’s also some bravery involved there, as both Pansy and Ron are going to explode on us,” Harry countered.

 

The blond rolled his eyes. “Of course you’d see it that way.”

 

“Well yes...Gryffindor.”

 

The two men grinned at each other—both with adoration for the other in their gleaming eyes. Then the dark-haired man sighed.

 

“Wait though,” he said, a frown creasing his brow. “Why don’t we just tell everyone else tomorrow. I mean, we’ll be at The Burrow, so....”

 

Draco frowned as well. “But Pansy won’t be there and she’ll be incensed if your friends know before she does.”

 

“Hmm. Probably. _Unless_...”

 

“Unless what?” the blond asked.

 

“Well...what if I owl Molly and ask if we can invite Pansy and Dudley over for dessert and we do it then? All the Weasleys are dying to see little Flora.”

 

Draco seemed to consider. “Do you think our kids can keep their gobs shut until dessert?”

 

Harry chuckled. “I’m sure there’s a spell for it anyway.”

 

Draco’s eyes widened with mock surprise. “You’re willing to _jinx_ our progeny?”

 

Harry laughed again—and shrugged. “Whatever works, love.”

 

“Actually, a potion would work better and they wouldn’t even know they’d been given one. We could spike their dinner drinks.”

 

“You’re willing to _drug_ our offspring?” the dark-haired man asked.

 

Draco nodded. “Absolutely, yes.” Then nodding, he said, “I think this could work...though, I do so love the idea of a bet.”

 

“We could still do announcements,” Harry said. “Everyone _else_ can wait for the announcements to arrive.”

 

“Yes, but the sitting and waiting for them to flood into our drawing room would be...entertaining.”

 

“You do love to torture your friends,” Harry said.

 

Draco shrugged. “What can I say?”

 

“ _Slytherin_!” the both said in unison.

 

**~ o ~**

 

“Good evening, Mother,” Draco said, smiling at his mother as she stepped over the threshold and into his and Harry’s home.

 

“Good evening, darling,” Narcissa returned, kissing her son’s cheek, then smiling when his husband offered to take her cloak. “Thank you, Harry dear. How are you?”

 

With a smile, Harry turned and hung up the woman’s outerwear. “Very good, thank you,” he said as he turned back and leaned to kiss Narcissa’s extended hand. “I hope you’re well.”

 

Narcissa nodded. “Quite. Thank you. And so very pleased to be invited over tonight,” she said. “I just love the holidays and...it’s so nice to see you both. You look...wonderful.” She eyed her son’s chosen man—and his attire (a little less together than usual, but still rather smart)—then looked at Draco. “As do you, my dear. You look so...rested.”

 

“Thank you, Mother,” Draco said—then turned. “Father,” he continued with a nod at the man. Lucius was just standing there, glancing around their entrance hall, a sour look on his face. “How are you this evening?”

 

Lucius scoffed. “Being dragged out of The Manor on Christmas Eve is never my idea of a good evening. And _why_ are we getting together on Christmas Eve, rather than tomorrow? Isn’t this the year that we do Christmas _Day_ together...at The Manor?”

 

Draco huffed and opened his mouth to remark, but Harry cut him off.

 

“Sorry for that, sir. I do hope a home-cooked meal and some fine wine will make it worth it,” he said, but didn’t really explain. Usually they spent Christmas Day at Malfoy Manor on odd years and The Burrow on even years—and the opposite on Boxing Day—but this year they’d decided to do Christmas Eve dinner at home with Draco’s parents and Christmas Day at The Burrow, because most of the kids had asked to do their own thing with friends on Boxing Day.

 

Lucius’ scowl deepened. “It had better be the finest,” he retorted. “And...home-cooked? Did you boys hire a cook or have you managed to get over your aversion to House-elves?”

 

Draco sighed. “Father, you know Harry and I have decided that we’d like to take care of our own household and the needs of this family without the aid of any sort of help. We are both perfectly capable. And, to be honest, Harry’s a much better cook than anyone we could ever hire,” he said, smiling lovingly at his husband.

 

“There is no need to _hire_ House-elves,” Lucius continued. “They’re just... _there_.”

 

Harry rolled his eyes, but managed to keep the act hidden. Draco, on the other hand, glared. “This is not Malfoy Manor, Father! In _our_ house, we do not find it necessary to have House-elves, paid or otherwise. And I’d appreciate it if you’d not imply that there’s something wrong with that. It’s perfectly normal. _Most_ people do not have servants.”

 

Lucius harrumphed. “Where are the children?” he asked next. “I’m surprised the house is not rumbling with the activity that always seems to be generated by such a large number of them.”

 

Harry chuckled at that. “Isn’t _that_ the truth?!” he quipped. He knew his father-in-law meant it as an insult, but he couldn’t help but be amused by the truth of it. “They’re out though. Well, some of them. Corvus and Sirius are up in the family lounge watching some Muggle movie and, last I checked, Scorpius was in his room studying. Caelum’s taken the girls shopping and Orion is out with a friend, but they’ll all be home soon, I suspect. And Teddy...he and Victoire should arrive in about thirty.”

 

“Hmm.”

 

Draco frowned at his father’s reply—or lack thereof. “Shall we go into the lounge and have a drink?” he asked.

 

“Oh. That would be lovely, darling,” said Narcissa. “I would just love a cocktail.”

 

Draco stared at his mother. “A what?”

 

“I was over at Andromeda’s last week and she...well, _Arnold_ , he fixed me something called a Hanky Panky. It was quite nice,” she said—causing both Draco and Harry to grin.

 

Lucius scoffed. “ _That man_ ,” he semi-snarled—and that’s all he said.

 

“Well, I can make you that, Mrs Malfoy...if you can tell me what’s in it,” Harry said, “because, I’ve never heard of that one.”

 

Narcissa chuckled. “I have absolutely no clue, Harry dear, and...I don’t have to have _that_ cocktail. Anything interesting will do. And...please do remember not to call me that,” Draco’s mother reminded.

 

“Right. I’m sorry... _Narcissa_ ,” said Harry. “How about a Painkiller?”

 

“Hmm. That sounds...ominous,” she said—causing Harry to laugh.

 

“Oh Mother. Yes. Those are delicious,” Draco interrupted. “We had them in the Caribbean. Along with something called...a Bushwacker.”

 

“Are we even speaking English?” Lucius intoned snidely.

 

“Be nice, Lucius,” Narcissa chastised. “There’s no need to be unpleasant. It’s quite unbecoming after all this time.”

 

Lucius’ eyes narrowed at his wife’s scolding. He was about to give her a piece of his mind when the Floo flared and Caelum appeared—followed quickly by Aria and Lyra.

 

“I just don’t understand why we had to go _all the way_ to Hogsmeade when you two were just up at Hogwarts a few days back,” he complained.

 

“Because we’re not old enough to go to Hogsmeade while we’re at school, you ninny!” Lyra barked.

 

“Thank you for taking us,” Aria said diplomatically—then, when she noticed they weren’t alone in the room, she hissed out a “now shush, you!” before smiling at their fathers and grandparents, who were still standing in the entryway. “Hello Grandmere. Grandfather.”

 

Quickly, the girls rushed forward to receive kisses from their grandmother, leaving Caelum to come more slowly.

 

“You’re both so lovely,” Narcissa said, a hand on each of her granddaughter’s cheeks. “Growing up so quickly. How has school been, darlings?” she asked, clasping a hand of each.

 

Lyra shrugged. “Well, you know...it’s school.”

 

Rolling her eyes, Aria elbowed her sister. “It’s fine Grandmere. We’re all doing quite well with our studies and also getting along excellently.”

 

Lyra snorted, using her free hand to flick a strawberry strand of hair off her face. “Well, _you_ don’t have to share a House with Orion, so...”

 

Aria laughed. “Yes, because Scorpius is _sooo_ much more fun,” she said sarcastically.

 

Lyra frowned. “Point taken,” she said. “But at least he’s not always scheming.”

 

“True that,” Aria agreed. “He is, however, quite moody...and _that_ can be _extremely_ exhausting. _Much_ more annoying than Orion’s silly shenanigans. Plus, Orion’s been better since...well, you know...” She let her words trail off as she pushed her long blonde hair off her shoulders.

 

Narcissa chortled her amusement. “I dare say, you two would just keep going if left to do so, wouldn’t you?”

 

“Sorry Gran,” the girls said at the same time, both smiling sheepishly.

 

“Greet your grandfather, girls,” Draco finally said. It was true, the girls were close, but often managed to poke and prod the other without any mind to the others in a room. It was only worse when Sirius joined them.

 

Both girls turned toward the older man. “Good evening, Grandfather,” they said—once again in unison—then went to the man and gave him a hug.

 

Lucius pursed his lips, but relaxed some as his granddaughters enthusiastically embraced him—then kissed his cheeks. He liked to act as though all the children were a nuisance, but he really did hold affection for them—in his own way—even though he mostly refused to show it. He was, after all, a reserved man. And they were sneaky little buggers, being excessively demonstrative intentionally, just to ruffle him.

 

When the embrace had ended, Caelum came forward. “Grandfather,” he greeted with a stiff nod.

 

It wasn’t a secret—at least not to Draco and Harry—that Caelum wasn’t overly fond of Lucius Malfoy. Since he was the oldest—and had had more alone time to think on it—he quite resented the way his grandfather treated the lot of them. He especially disliked how Lucius Malfoy treated Draco, his very own son. Caelum could tell it hurt his father deeply. Harry, on the other hand, seemed to take it in stride. Caelum knew the histories. He’d read all about it and he thought his grandfather was an arse! The others may or may not have had similar feelings, but Orion had Corvus—and vice versa. And Scorpius...well, he had his own issues. And Aria, Sirius, and Lyra had each other too— _they_ were almost like triplets!

 

But Lucius didn’t seem to notice the young man’s standoffishness.

 

“Caelum,” Lucius said coolly.

 

“Do I get a cuddle too?” the young man asked the older one—causing his sisters to giggle. He wasn’t totally serious and so he extended his hand to be shaken instead—like the man he now was.

 

Lucius stared at the hand before him for a moment, then slowly put his hand in his grandson’s and shook it firmly—then surprised Caelum by reaching out with his other hand and resting it on the younger man’s shoulder and squeezing.

 

“How are you, Caelum?” Lucius said, his hand slipping over his grandson’s shoulder to his back to steer them into the lounge. “I hear you have a new position at the Ministry.”

 

Feeling oddly warmed by the touch—and unexpected interest—Caelum smiled and nodded. “I do have, sir,” he said. “It’s in the Department of Mysteries, but it’s quite a low position at this point. It’s a foot in the door though, so...”

 

Lucius smiled proudly. “It certainly is, son.”

 

Caelum glanced at his fathers, who’d followed them into the lounge. While it felt nice to get a little personal attention from his aloof grandfather, it was also a bit strange. Caelum couldn’t help feeling uncomfortable. Both his fathers looked sympathetic to his plight.

 

“Would you care for a drink, Mr Malfoy,” Harry asked his father-in-law, to shift attention.

 

Seeming to shake himself out of his uncharacteristic attention to one of the grandchildren, Lucius pursed his lips and gave Harry a clipped nod. It was Draco, however, who went to their liquor cabinet.

 

“Wine or whisky, Father? Or a mixed drink?” he asked.

 

“I agree with your taste...in most things...you choose,” the elder Malfoy said.

 

Harry almost snorted out a laugh, but the look on Draco’s face stopped him. Clearly, his husband thought he could do _nothing_ right by his father, so he looked startled—and pleased—to hear such words. Harry, however, mostly only heard the dig towards himself. But it was okay, because the look of pleasure on his husband’s face was beautiful to him. In the end, Draco fixed his father a whisky sour—which Lucius seemed to enjoy.

 

**~ o ~**

 

A short time later in the upstairs lounge, Orion stumbled into the room via the Floo, stopping abruptly when he saw Corvus and Sirius sprawled on one of the sofas.

 

“Hiya,” he said, trying to straighten himself up a bit and wiping at his glossy, swollen lips.

 

“Hey,” Corvus said, grinning as he sat up. “Everything all right?”

 

Orion glanced at their younger brother and shrugged—then grinned. “Better than,” he said as he ran a hand through the disaster of dark hair on his head.

 

“The grandparents are downstairs,” said Sirius as he clicked off the telly and stood up. “Dad popped up to let us know, but we haven’t gone down yet. I suppose we should though.”

 

All three of them wrinkled their noses.

 

Sirius looked from one brother to the other, then smirked. “I’ll just...head down.”

 

“I should probably change my clothes first,” Orion said to Corvus as Sirius left.

 

Corvus grimaced. “You should probably _shower_ first...you reek. Did you and Thaddeus even leave his bedroom?”

 

Orion had the decency to blush. “Er...nope.”

 

Corvus chuckled. “Gross. I hesitate to even touch you, but...way to go, Ri!” he said, holding up his hand to give his twin a high five.

 

Still red in the face, Orion grinned and accepted the gesture. “You’re right though...I’ll just go rinse off.”

 

“Oh. You’re back,” Scorpius said as he entered the room. “How’s Thaddeus?”

 

Orion continued to grin. “Quite fine.”

 

“Oh. I see,” Scorpius said—then frowned and leaned forward a bit and scrunched up his nose. “You smell—”

 

“Like sex? I know,” Orion said, grinning. “I was just going....” He nodded up. “Be down in a bit. Stall for me, yeah?”

 

Corvus chuckled. “We’ll certainly try.”

 

Scorpius snorted. “I won’t.”

 

Orion rolled his eyes. “Of course, you won’t. Either way, I’ll be down as soon as I can be.”

 

Scorpius frowned. “I hope you’re being careful.”

 

“Score. It’s just me and Thad. Neither of us have...you know?”

 

Scorpius rolled his eyes. “Has being a child of Draco and Harry Malfoy-Potter taught you nothing?!”

 

“He’s got a point, Ri,” Corvus said.

 

Orion huffed. “You’re right. I’ll...um...be more careful.”

 

“See that you do,” Scorpius said—then disappeared down the stairs.

 

Orion frowned. “I might have to...do some research to, you know, _be careful_ ,” he said to his twin.

 

Corvus laughed. “The dads have books, you know. I could...nick one of them for you, so you can read up.”

 

Orion nodded. “Yeah. Thanks.”

 

**~ o ~**

 

By the time Orion had showered and made his way down to the main floor, everyone down there was more than ready to sit down to eat. Teddy had arrived without Victoire (she was feeling poorly) and all the grown ups (minus Harry) had had at least one adult beverage, so they were all mostly relaxed—or so Orion hoped when he sauntered down the stairs all squeaky clean.

 

But he didn’t enter the room alone; Corvus had waited for his twin in their shared bedroom, so they could go down together. They were, like twins often are, very close...and Corvus wouldn’t allow Orion to enter alone and possibly be given a hard time—by the parents, the grandparents, and/or their siblings—all by himself.

 

But Corvus didn’t have to worry because, when he and Orion reached the family lounge, they were met with Aria, Sirius, and Lyra, who’d excused themselves to _freshen up_ before Christmas Eve supper—so that the five of them could enter together. Really though, the three youngest didn’t want to sit downstairs with their crotchety, old, pureblood grandfather.

 

And so they entered as a unit...

 

“Oh good. We’re all here,” Harry said when he saw them flood into the downstairs lounge.

 

“Finally,” Lucius said snidely.

 

Ignoring his father-in-law, Harry stood up—he’d been perched on the arm of the chair that Draco was sitting in—and continued. “Is everyone ready to eat?”

 

Everyone nodded. Lucius Malfoy’s nod was rather clipped, but everyone else’s was vigorous—they were hungry!—and so Harry looked to his husband. “You want to get everyone seated while Cael and I start getting the food?”

 

Nodding, Draco got up. “Right this way everyone,” he said, gesturing toward the dining room.

 

“I’ll help Harry,” Teddy offered, starting after his godfather.

 

The rest of the kids knew where they sat, of course, so they went to their usual seats chatting happily as they entered the room and took their places. And, since this wasn’t their first meal in their son’s home, Lucius and Narcissa knew where they’d be sitting as well. Normally, Draco sat at the far end, but when his parents visited, he gave that seat to his father—his mother taking the seat to his father’s left—and he sat at the other end with Harry to _his_ left.

 

 Just slightly on edge, Draco got them all settled, then rushed to the kitchen to assist his husband. When he got there, Teddy and Caelum were exiting the kitchen, each carrying two dishes, playfully bantering as they went.

 

“Good thing Dad gave you the veggies,” said Caelum to Teddy as they walked by his father, “or we might find we’d have no main by the time we all got dished up.”

 

Teddy scoffed. “Couldn’t very well nick a morsel of meat with both hands full anyway,” he said.

 

“Don’t think I didn’t see you shove a bite in your mouth before you picked up those bowls,” said Caelum.

 

Teddy grinned—not at all sheepishly. “Try _three_ bites.”

 

“Merlin, Teddy...you’ll be seated and eating in a matter of minutes. What sort of Hufflepuff are you anyway? Have some patience, would you!” Caelum said—causing Teddy to laugh.

 

Chuckling, Draco turned toward Harry. “Always squabbling about meat, they are.”

 

Grinning, Harry nodded. “But it’s true, Teddy can’t help himself where that’s concerned, which is why he was not given the roast turkey.”

 

Both men laughed.

 

“Are you ready for this, love?” Draco asked, going to Harry and wrapping him in his arms.

 

Harry smiled. “I’m a little nervous,” he admitted, “but yeah, ready as I’ll ever be.”

 

“Good. Let’s just have this last meal with our little secret, then...”

 

Smiling, Harry nodded, then turned to hover a tray that contained the rest of their meal—minus the roast turkey, which Draco carried out.

 

**~ o ~**

 

Once everyone was served, there was a short silence as twelve hungry people tucked into their meals. But it didn’t last long. After several bites, everyone started conversing.

 

Well, mostly Narcissa started talking.

 

“How is Victoire, dear?” she asked Teddy.

 

Teddy shrugged. “Mostly good. She was really sorry she couldn’t make it tonight. She had a bad bout of sickness this morning and...Gran suggested she stay behind.”

 

Narcissa nodded. “Oh. I’m so sorry. That’s not at all fun. Andromeda’s with her then?”

 

Teddy nodded. He and Victoire had decided to put their wedding off until after the baby came—much to Molly Weasley’s upset—and they were living with his grandmother and Arnold Weasley for the time being. It wasn’t ideal, but it worked—and Bill and Fleur seemed to support the decision, so that made things easier.

 

“I’d wondered why she wasn’t here this evening,” Narcissa said. “I don’t get to see my sister as much as I’d like.”

 

“Gran was going to be at home baking tonight anyway...for tomorrow...so she said it wouldn’t be a problem,” Teddy explained. “And Victoire said I shouldn’t miss our family dinner, so that’s why I’m here.”

 

“Well, we’re all very pleased that you are, Teddy,” Narcissa said. “And everyone will be thrilled that Andromeda stayed home baking tonight. She makes the _best_ goodies.”

 

Teddy grinned. “Don’t tell Molly Weasley that,” he said.

 

Everyone chuckled. Molly made wonderful food and fabulous desserts, but it was never nice to point out that someone else’s were _the best_ —which implied that hers were less than.

 

“Will you be joining us tomorrow?” Teddy asked Narcissa Malfoy hopefully.

 

“Please do not tell me you’re going over to that... _hovel_ tomorrow,” Lucius cut in.

 

“Actually, Father, we _are_ going over to The Burrow tomorrow,” Draco said.

 

Lucius was clearly displeased, but Narcissa started talking again. “No. Not this year, dear,” Narcissa answered Teddy, sounding both sad and relieved. As much as she’d been able to get along with Molly, there was still a bit of a rift between them. She was grateful to Harry and all those who’d saved them, but she’d still lost a sister—insane though she was.

 

“We’re going on holiday starting this weekend and we have a few pre-holiday errands to run prior to our departure.”

 

Lucius Malfoy grumbled a bit, but everyone ignored him.

 

“Oh. Where are you going?” Teddy asked with genuine interest.

 

“Over to the continent,” Narcissa answered. “Lucius has a cousin with a winter home there, so we thought we’d visit.”

 

“What _is it_ that you do, Theodore?” Lucius asked next, changing the subject.

 

“It’s Teddy, actually...short for _Edward_ , Father,” Draco corrected from the other end of the table.

 

Lucius glared at his son.

 

“I’m working with Victoire’s father,” Teddy said. “He’s a cursebreaker.”

 

“Hmm. So I’ve heard,” said Lucius. “And Caelum’s with the Ministry.” He looked then at Orion and Corvus. “Any plans for after Hogwarts?”

 

They shrugged. “Not yet,” they said in unison.

 

“I plan to attend University when _I_ finish at Hogwarts,” Scorpius threw out there.

 

Lucius frowned. “University?”

 

Scorpius nodded.

 

“Score’s interested in Muggle studies...or rather, studying the Muggle way,” Aria said.

 

Lucius’ nose wrinkled a bit. “But you’d be surrounded by all those _Muggles_ ,” he said disdainfully.

 

Scorpius snorted. “Yes. What better way to learn about them.”

 

“Maybe he’ll _marry_ one!” Sirius said mischieviously—knowing full well what he was doing to his grandfather.

 

“Don’t be ridiculous!” Lucius burst. “Scorpius wouldn’t marry a Muggle!”

 

“Why not?” Lyra asked. “Dad’s cousin is a Muggle and he’s married to a witch. I think you know her too. Her name’s Pansy.”

 

Lucius’ eyes widened. “Ms Parkinson married a Muggle?”

 

Draco sighed. “Yes, Father.”

 

“And they just had a baby girl,” Aria continued. “Her name’s Flora and she’s _adorable_.”

 

Draco glanced at Harry, who was frowning. The conversation was getting a little out of hand. Both fathers could tell that the children were intentionally trying to rile up their grandfather. Narcissa saw this too and interrupted.

 

“Such a lovely set table, Harry,” she said next, her blue eyes going down the table to her son-in-law.

 

“Oh,” Harry said, lifting his napkin to his mouth and wiping before saying anything. “Thank you, Narcissa, but...this is _all_ Draco.”

 

Draco rolled his eyes. “It was a shared venture, Mother,” he said. “Together, we spent some time on the Internet looking up interesting holiday settings and this...” he said, spreading his arms, palms toward the table, “was the outcome.”

 

“What is... _the Internet_?” Narcissa asked.

 

“It’s the closest the Muggles can come to magic, Grandmother,” Aria interjected. “I’ll have to show you sometime. It’s brilliant!”

 

“I’d like that,” the blonde women said with a smile.

 

Again, Lucius Malfoy grumbled—this time more than a bit. “Why is everything red and gold?” he finally asked.

 

Instantly the table got quiet. Sirius, who’d been laughing at something Lyra had said, frowned, then uncharacteristically dropped his eyes down and just stared at the food on his plate. Sitting next to him, Lyra grabbed her twin’s hand and squeezed it.

 

“The walls are green,” Orion said after a glance up at his usually talkative Gryffindor brother.

 

“And red,” Lucius countered. “Which they always are.”

 

“The forks, knives, and spoons are all silver,” Orion pointed out.

 

Lucius gnashed his teeth.

 

“The pine sprigs are green,” Lyra pointed out.

 

Lucius narrowed his eyes at his youngest granddaughter. “And brown with _red_ and _gold_ bows tied around them,” he said, his gaze going down the table to his son. “The baubles are gold. The crackers are _red_. The _napkins_ are red. The _placemats_ are red. The _packages_ are red. Need I go on?”

 

“How about the tree, Grandfather? Do you have an objection to that too?” Scorpius asked from the far end of the table.

 

Lucius, right next to the tree, barely gave it a glance. It had colorful fairy lights on it and a lovely array of ornaments that the children had made over the years. He didn’t comment.

 

“It’s Christmas, Father,” Draco said flatly.

 

“Well yes, and isn’t _green_ a Christmas color as well?” Lucius went on.

 

Draco sighed. “What I’m saying is that...it’s _Christmas_! Would it be possible for us to have a nice meal as a family without Houses coming into it?!”

 

“I was merely pointing out that it seems overly—”

 

“Father!” Draco snapped. “There are three Gryffindors, two Hufflepuffs, two Ravenclaws, and _five_ Slytherins at this table!”

 

“Don’t remind me,” the older man bit out.

 

“If _anything_ ,” Draco said over his father’s voice, “the other Houses are outnumbered and underrepresented here. Could we _please_ just enjoy our Christmas dinner?”

 

His eyes narrowing, Lucius picked up his glass of wine and drained it.

 

**~ o ~**

 

“That was a lovely meal, Harry,” Narcissa said. “You did a fine job with everything. And I must say that I’ve never tasted brussels sprouts quite like yours. I’m not sure what you did to them to make them so delicious, but I do hope I can have your recipe.”

 

Harry’s eyes lit up. “Oh. Um. Of course, Narcissa. If you want it, then it’s yours,” he said, wondering if his mother-in-law ever entered the Malfoy kitchens for anything other than baking. He knew she liked to bake.

 

Lucius rolled his eyes.

 

“It’s Molly’s recipe actually,” Harry said, worried that his husband’s mother might like the dish less if she knew who’d taught him how to make it.

 

“Oh, really? Well, isn’t that nice,” she said. “She had all that practice...cooking for seven children...she must be very good.”

 

Everyone at the table nodded.

 

“As are our fathers,” Corvus said.

 

“Seven of us and all,” Scorpius added.

 

“Eight, counting Teddy,” Orion put in.

 

All the Malfoy-Potter _kids_ were grinning and nodding at their beloved cousin—and Lucius Malfoy practically had steam pouring out of his ears.

 

“Oh. For _Merlin’s_ sake, Father!” Draco burst. “It’s been twelve _fucking_ years!”

 

Narcissa cringed. “Draco. Language,” she hissed.

 

“Don’t worry, Grandmother,” Sirius cut in, “we hear those words all the time at Hogwarts.”

 

Harry shook his head. “You’re not helping, Sirius,” he said to his youngest son.

 

Sighing, Draco pinched the bridge of his nose, then looked down the table at his father. “When are you going to get over this?” he asked, his voice low.

 

“I suspect never, Draco,” said Lucius. “How does one _get over this_ , as you say?”

 

Draco sighed again. “Hmm. Well then, I suspect you won’t be overly pleased with our news.”

 

“I figured there was something,” Lucius said. “Not a divorce then, I guess?”

 

Draco snorted out a laugh—but everyone else just glared at the Malfoy patriarch.

 

Aria and Lyra looked...incensed. “That’s just... _rude_!” the latter said just as the former said, “ _despicable_!” Both girls stood up—Sirius with them—tears shining in their eyes as they looked at their fathers. They clearly wanted to leave the room, but had not been dismissed, and so they just stood there.

 

Narcissa was upset as well. She would deal with Lucius later, but she was quite curious now. “You have... _news_?”

 

Draco glanced at Harry, who smiled back at him encouragingly, then took his husband’s hand and looked back at everyone staring between them. “Come April, we will be adding another to this family,” Draco said proudly.

 

Narcissa gasped, then clapped a hand over her mouth, while everyone else—except Lucius—grinned. Lyra and Aria jumped up and down and squealed, then ran to their dads.

 

“Oh Merlin!” Lyra said, tearfully. “This is... _wonderful_!”

 

Though less overt about it, all the boys seemed pleased, if their smiles were any indication. Caelum was the only one who got up and went to his father.

 

“Congratulations, Dad,” he said.

 

Draco smiled. “Don’t look at me,” he said. “This time it’s _Poppy_.”

 

At the far end of the table, from the least pleasant person in the room, there was a heavy sigh. “Oh. Thank. Merlin.”

 

Draco and Harry chuckled a bit. “So very glad at least something pleases you, Father,” Draco said—then continued on before his father could reply. “Dessert anyone?”

 

**~ o ~**

 

“So...Orion has an announcement as well,” Sirius said after swallowing the last bite of his cake.

 

Corvus snorted and Orion’s eyes widened in terror.

 

“Seriously?” Orion said with a glare.

 

Shrugging, Sirius grinned. “ _Obviously_.”

 

“You’re not pregnant too, are you?” Harry asked his son

 

“Of course not!” Orion said—causing Lyra and Aria to giggle and Scorpius to snort.

 

“Well then,” Draco said. “Do tell, please. The suspense is killing me.”

 

Orion huffed. Then he sighed. Then he squared his shoulders. “Okay. So. I’m _seeing_ someone,” he said.

 

“Oh. That’s lovely, dear,” Narcissa said. “Do we know her?”

 

Biting his lip, Orion glanced around at his siblings. “Well. Um. _Yeah_. But...”

 

Frowning, Caelum leaned forward so that he could see Orion around Corvus. “It’s Thaddeus, isn’t it?” he quickly deduced.

 

Orion turned bright red. “Er...yeah.” He looked then at his fathers and waited. They looked...upset. He’d thought that maybe they would be.

 

“Thaddeus _Nott_?” Draco queried.

 

Nodding, Orion dropped his gaze to his empty dessert plate.

 

Draco glanced at Harry, who was frowning. “And...you didn’t think you could tell us?”

 

Shrugging, Orion looked at his fathers. “I...um...” was all he could manage—until he felt a hand snake into his.

 

“Ri,” Harry started, squeezing his son’s hand. “You... _all_ of you...can always tell us _anything_. There’s almost nothing we wouldn’t support if it made you happy.”

 

“Okay,” the sixteen year old boy said quietly.

 

“I am surprised though,” Draco said, his brows knitted together, “that you felt you couldn’t tell us. I mean...have we _ever_ given you the impression that we wouldn’t accept a gay son? Because, _clearly_ that’s a ridiculous notion.”

 

Orion shrugged. “I guess it is,” he said with a frown. “Yeah, of course it is. I was...just being stupid. I sort of just figured it out...at Scorpius’ birthday party at school, but I...thank you for understanding.”

 

Harry draped an arm over Orion’s shoulders and pulled him close. “So, I hope you’ll bring him around, so we can get to know him.”

 

Orion grinned. “ _Really_?”

 

Draco snorted. “Of course,” he said—then looked at his husband. “Maybe we can have the Notts over before the kids return to school?”

 

Harry shrugged. “Absolutely. Why don’t you owl Thaddeus later on and find out what would work best for them.”

 

Orion nodded. He didn’t know what to say, so he just smiled shyly—which was _sooo_ uncharacteristic of Orion Severus Malfoy-Potter.

 

But then, as everyone started talking again, and he wasn’t the center of attention anymore, Orion relaxed—and accepted another piece of cake when it was passed down to him. And started laughing at something Sirius said. And sighed when Corvus’s hand took his. And smiled knowingly when he noticed his fathers gazing at one another lovingly. What a lucky group they were!


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please excuse any typos. I did do a reread...several of them...but I did not run it through my text to speech program (which usually catches my silly errors), because I just wanted to get it posted. If you find any glaring mistakes, please let me know.

**Not Again!**

 

Christmas Eve 2019

...just before midnight...and a bit after!

 

**~ o ~**

The evening had wrapped up nicely. The group of them had spent a couple hours in the lounge by the Christmas tree and a roaring fire, having drinks and exchanging gifts and just talking. Lucius hadn’t said much after their announcement—which was nice!—but Narcissa couldn’t be any more happy for them. She, along with the girls, had voiced their desire that Harry should have a girl. The boys, however, didn’t seem to care either way; they were just happy that their dads were happy. Teddy, on the other hand, couldn’t stop thinking about how he and his godfather were going to become fathers around the same time—he was very excited and had loads of questions so that he could better understand what Victoire was going through. Lucius added no comment to the discussion—mostly, he just looked bored. And Harry and Draco just wanted a healthy baby. Boy or girl did not matter to them.

 

Eventually, it was time to end the evening—after what felt like _days_ to Lucius Malfoy. At the door, Narcissa kissed her son’s cheeks and pulled him into her arms for a hug, then turned toward Harry, love shining in her bright blue eyes.

 

“You take care now,” she ordered. “Lots of bed rest and, for the love of Merlin, _please_ allow Draco to take care of you.”

 

Harry chuckled. “Of course, Narcissa.”

 

The older woman smiled—then surprised the dark-haired man by gesturing at what still appeared to be a fairly flat stomach. “May I?”

 

Smiling, Harry nodded. “Of course,” he said as he pulled up his bulky jumper. He had a t-shirt on underneath, so there was still a thin barrier.

 

Narcissa looked down. “Oh!” she gasped as she stared at the not so small swell of Harry’s belly. The baby bump was much more pronounced that she thought it would be, but still mostly unnoticeable if wearing the right clothing. “You’ve hidden _that_ well.”

 

Both Draco and Harry grinned. “Wasn’t easy with everyone coming and going all the time,” Harry said.

 

“We wanted to tell everyone together,” Draco said.

 

“Not everyone though,” said Harry. “Our friends are next.”

 

Narcissa smiled, then moved closer to her son-in-law. Placing one hand on the small of his back, she put the other on his belly.

 

“Any movement yet?” she asked.

 

Harry shrugged. “Some nudges. Mostly just flutters though.”

 

Smiling, Narcissa pulled her hands back and placed them over her own womb. “I remember that. It was...magical. I wish that...” she started, her eyes going to her silent husband—but she didn’t finish the sentence. They’d hoped for more children, but it had not happened. “I am so happy for you both,” she whispered.

 

“Thank you, Narcissa,” Harry said.

 

**~ o ~**

After Draco’s parents were gone, the family cleaned up together—the kids clearing the table, so that Draco could do the dishes while Harry picked up all the wrapping paper that littered the lounge floor.

 

“Dad. Should you be doing that?” Lyra asked with concern when she noticed her dad on his knees in the lounge.

 

Harry looked up to see his three youngest standing in the doorway gawking at him. Smiling, he got up easily enough. “There’s no reason I can’t do most things I’ve always done, love,” he said. “I’m pregnant, not breakable.”

 

A snort came from the other doorway. It was Harry’s husband. “I seem to recall _someone_ saying, ‘I don’t want you to strain yourself,’ Draco said, mimicking Harry from all those years ago.

 

Harry rolled his eyes. “And _I_ recall that you were eight months along at the time and carrying a little one on each hip. Such is not the case here.”

 

Draco laugh. “Yet.”

 

“Well, I won’t be picking up any of the children. They’re not so little anymore,” Harry said, casting a smile at those watching—Aria, Sirius, and Lyra were grinning.

 

“Why don’t you go up, love?” Draco suggested as he approached Harry and took the bin bag from him. “You did a lot today. You cooked your heart out and had to put up with my parents, so...I’ll clean. _We’ll_ clean.”

 

“Yeah, Dad,” Caelum called out from the dining room. “You go rest. We got you.”

 

Instantly, Orion and Corvus appeared in the lounge and, taking the bin bag from their blond father, started gathering more of the scattered bows and ribbons and torn paper.

 

Harry huffed. “Fine. I’ll go shower,” he said, “but don’t think this means I’m throwing in the towel where my job in the house goes.”

 

Draco nodded. “Good then, I’ll be up as soon as we’re done. Warm the bed for me,” he whispered, then took his husband’s lips in a passionate kiss.”

 

“Oi!” Orion burst. “Merlin, you two are...the _worst_.”

 

Everyone laughed.

 

“Says the one who spent the day with his boyfriend,” Scorpius quipped.

 

Orion’s face flushed crimson, causing all his siblings to laugh. Their fathers, on the other hand, glanced at one another and frowned.

 

“Hmm. Seems _the talk_ might be in order,” Harry said.

 

Draco nodded. “Indeed.”

 

Groaning, Orion glared daggers at Scorpius.

 

“What? Did we not just agree that you needed to _be careful_?”

 

Orion huffed. “Right. Fine,” he said, his face still bright red. “But I don’t need ‘ _the talk_.’ I’m perfectly capable of reading up on my own, thanks!” he snapped—and cast another glare at Scorpius as his younger brother left the room. “Besides, it’s not like I don’t know the ins and outs of...stuff!” Orion continued. “With the way _you two_ carry on, it’s not likely that any kid growing up in your home wouldn’t, Dads!”

 

“He’s got a point,” Corvus put in.

 

Both Draco and Harry chuckled. “Alrighty then,” Harry said as he ran a hand over his slightly stubbly jaw.

 

Draco nodded. “Okay. We’ll leave it there as long as you promise you’ll come to us with questions and...”

 

Orion rolled his eyes. “I am _not_ giving you details!”

 

“And we don’t want them, Ri,” Harry cut in. “Really. But, as your fathers, we _need_ to know that you’re safe.”

 

“And educated,” Draco added. “So, if you give us your word, then we’ll drop it...for now.”

 

Orion huffed. “Fine. I promise.”

 

Both Draco and Harry exhaled their relief.

 

**~ o ~**

As directed, Harry had gone up and showered while Draco and the children put everything to rights downstairs and now he was lounging comfortably in their bed reading, _What to Expect When You’re Expecting: Witches & Wizards version_, while he waited for his husband to join him. When they finished up in the kitchen, Draco had come up, but now _he_ was in the shower—and Harry was hoping there’d be just a little more to their evening.

 

“Dad?” a voice said.

 

Harry looked up from his book to find Aria and Lyra standing together in the doorway. They were in their pyjamas, ready for bed, but looked as if they needed something.

 

“May we come in?” Aria asked quietly.

 

Harry smiled. “Of course,” he said, putting down his book and patting the bed.

 

Both girls grinned as they moved into the room and climbed into bed on either side of their dad and cuddled up to him.

 

“We’re really excited for you,” Aria said as she nestled her blonde head onto Harry chest.

 

“Not _me_!” Lyra burst. “ _I’m_ really excited for _me_! I won’t be the youngest anymore!”

 

Harry chuckled. “Nope. You certainly won’t be, love,” he said as he kissed the top of her strawberry head, then turned his head and kissed Aria’s too. “And _speaking_ of siblings...Sirius, are you waiting for an engraved invitation?”

 

Instantly, the boy’s dark head came into view, his gray eyes wide with surprise. “How’d you know I was here?”

 

Harry chuckled again. “Um. Your sisters are here, so...where else would _you_ be?” he asked. He didn’t expect an answer though...as, for the most part, these three were inseparable.

 

Grinning sheepishly, Sirius made his way to the bed and flopped down on the foot of it, at their father’s feet, and lay there propped up on his side, resting his head on his hand.

 

“And I suspect that Scorpius is also just outside the room, pretending like all this stuff is beneath him,” Harry said—slightly louder than was necessary.

 

Sirius snorted—then looked surprised when Scorpius moved into the doorway.

 

“Get in here, silly,” Harry said.

 

Slightly embarrassed, Scorpius smiled, but entered the room and sat primly on the corner of the bed.

 

“Now we just have to wait for the others,” Harry said, causing everyone’s eyes to go back to the door. And sure enough, Caelum, Orion, and Corvus had just come up the stairs and into their fathers’ room.

 

“Hiya, Dad,” Caelum said. “Thought we’d come up and say goodnight too.”

 

“And, you know, tuck you in,” Orion piped as he went to the far side of the bed and lay down beside Lyra—giving Sirius a bit of a shove with his feet as he made space for himself—just as Corvus pushed his way in next to Aria. And grinning, Caelum got on the bed as well, settling himself cross-legged in the small space between Scorpius and Sirius.

 

“Oh. Hey. A _family_ bed?” Draco said as he entered the room with just a towel wrapped around his waist.

 

“Oh _Dad_! Put some jammies on!” Aria and Lyra whinged in unison, burying their faces in their other father’s chest.

 

Both Draco and Harry laughed.

 

“Well, I didn’t really expect to find _all of you_ in my bed at midnight,” Draco said as he pulled a nightshirt over his head and dropped his towel to put on some pants. Everyone kept their heads turned—except for Harry, who watched with a lascivious grin, brows hitching up—not that it mattered though, because Draco’s sleeping shirt was long enough to cover him properly and...well, he and Harry had never been shy about nudity in front of their children. Not one of them was really traumatized by their fathers’ antics. It was more a running joke to pretend to be outraged, but it was all in good fun.

 

“We just wanted to say goodnight,” Sirius said.

 

“And see dad’s baby bump,” Lyra admitted, her face still buried.

 

“Are you decent yet?” Aria asked into her father’s shirt, her voice muffled.

 

Orion snorted. “When are they _ever_ decent?” he asked.

 

“ _Never_ ,” Scorpius grumbled—causing everyone, including himself, to laugh.

 

“All right,” Draco said. “It’s been fun, but...seeing as how we’re _never_ decent, I’d like some alone time with my husband, so...if you cretins could remove yourselves from our bed and vacate our bedroom, it would be much appreciated.”

 

“Oh _Dad_!” all seven Malfoy-Potter offspring burst—then started giggling as they all hopped up quickly and scampered toward the door, the girls hugging and kissing their fathers first, then disappearing down the stairs. At the door, Caelum stopped and turned around, a grin on his face.

 

“This really is great, Dads,” he said. “We’re all so very happy for you.”

 

“Thank you, Cael,” Harry said, smiling fondly at their eldest child who was now a young man. Nineteen! Oh, how the time flies!

 

Smiling, Caelum looked at the fathers one last time, then closed the door.

 

“I’d say that went rather well, don’t you?” Draco said. “No one was upset.”

 

“Except maybe your father,” said Harry.

 

“Well, yes, but...when _isn’t_ father upset with something we’ve said or done?”

 

Harry shrugged. “True.”

 

“There you go then...everything went perfectly!” the blond said—causing his husband to chuckle. “Now we just have to tell our friends.”

 

Harry pulled a face. “Maybe we could wait just a little longer.”

 

“And have them all in a snit?” Draco said with a snort. “I think not.”

 

Harry shrugged. “It’s our business though.”

 

Smiling knowingly, Draco slipped his pants off and pulled his nightshirt back over his head and deposited them both onto the chair in the corner. “Yes, but not for much longer now that the kids know.”

 

“You _did_ put that tongue tying potion in everyone’s drinks, right? So they can’t go blabbering until we’re ready.”

 

Draco laughed. “ _Yes_.”

 

“Well then, everyone else can just wait until we’re good and ready.”

 

“I thought we’d agreed to tell everyone immediately following the children and my parents. I thought you wanted your family and friends to know right away, so that no one felt slighted,” Draco said, a bit confused.

 

“Well yes,” Harry said. “But...I guess I’m a bit nervous.”

 

Draco nodded. “Understandable.”

 

“And you _know_ the press is going to be all up in our business again,” Harry complained.

 

“That’s true,” Draco said with an annoyed grinding of his teeth. The press was such a pain in the arse! “Fine. But we can’t wait long. You’re not going to be able to hide _that_ much longer.” The blond gestured at Harry’s middle. “And our friends...Pansy in particular...are going to be furious if they find out before we actually get around to telling them.”

 

Harry nodded.

 

“Now,” Draco started with a grin, “how about we celebrate our news with just each other?”

 

Harry’s eyes widened. “ _Again_?!”

 

Draco nodded. “Yes, again,” he said, giving Harry a heated look. “And again and again and again,” he went on.

 

Harry chuckled, but tossed his book aside, then pushed back their comforter and wiggled out of his pyjamas. “Okay. Ready,” he said quickly.

 

Draco watched his husband spread himself out on their bed, naked and ready.

 

“I can _see_ that,” he said, his silver eyes on Harry’s instantly erect cock as he crawled onto their bed, running his hands up his husband’s legs as he moved himself toward the other man’s hardness. “That was fast, love.”

 

Harry shrugged. “Well...you know,” he said—then groaned when Draco skipped over his rigid member in favor of the bump at his middle.

 

“I can’t wait to meet him or her,” Draco said as he kissed Harry’s belly.

 

“Or maybe a him _and_ a her,” Harry said, his eyes closed now.

 

Draco laughed. “Do you know something I don’t, love?” he asked.

 

Harry shook his head. “No. Just saying. With our record, who knows. _Could_ be multiples.”

 

“That would be...something, wouldn’t it? Hmm...” Draco hummed—then maneuvered himself between his husband’s legs and leaned down to engulf the hard flesh there, causing Harry to moan.

 

“Silencing charm?” Harry muttered.

 

Draco chuckled. “You do it...wandlessly. You know how much that turns me on.”

 

Harry snorted. “I’m not sure you need more _turning on_ , love,” the dark-haired man said as he twisted them around so that his hand could reach Draco’s hard cock and, stroking it, he said, “Hmm. You feel quite ready as well.”

 

Draco grinned—then waved an arm at the door to throw up his own wandless silencing charm, adding a locking charm just in case—then stopped as a sudden wave of nausea hit him. Gulping, he quickly pushed Harry away and scrambled up, a horrified look on his face.

 

“No!” he burst.

 

Confused, Harry rolled over and got up too. “What?! What’s wrong?”

 

Draco’s eyes were wide, then he started to blink—to stop the tears from falling. Turning, he ran to the bathroom and shut the door with a snap, then leaned against it.

 

“Draco?” came Harry’s worried voice. “What’s going on?”

 

Biting his lip, Draco turned to rest his forehead on the cold door and swallowed a few times. _Oh no! No, no, no, this_ cannot _be happening!_ the blond thought as tears filled his eyes. “Go away, Potter. _Please_ , just go away,” he groaned.

 

“Draco? Are you okay? Open the door,” Harry said, obviously standing on the other side of the closed door.

 

“I’m fine, Potter,” he said quickly.

 

“You don’t _sound_ fine,” said Harry.

 

Draco squeezed his eyes closed and attempted to get his nausea under control, then slipped on his bathrobe. “Please, Potter, just...go.”

 

“That is _not_ going to happen, Draco!” Harry snapped as he slapped the flat of his hand on the door separating them. “And...what’s with this _Potter_ nonsense, damn it?! I’m your _husband_!”

 

Draco winced—and then a sharp pain in his abdomen brought the blond to his knees. “ _FUCK_! No! Not _again_!” he groaned.

 

“Draco, I don’t know what’s going on, but you need to open this door! Right. _Now_!” Harry ordered. “Please do _not_ make me open it for you.”

 

On the other side, Draco whimpered, then moved away from the door and sat down on the tile. “It’s not...locked, Harry,” he said quietly. “You may enter.”

 

Without waiting, Harry opened the door and stared down at the blond—who, red-faced, with tears in his eyes, looked absolutely miserable. “What in Merlin’s name is going on, Draco?” he asked as he knelt down beside the man he loved.

 

Sighing, Draco raised a hand and said, “Help me up?”

 

Without questioning it, Harry reached out and stood up, pulling Draco to his feet. “Please. Tell me.”

 

Draco sighed. “Harry. In less than five months...we’re going to be fathers again.”

 

Harry laughed. “I know that, love,” he said, taking Draco’s hand and putting it on his rounding tummy. “Did you suddenly realize that we’d succeeded in our task of impregnating me?”

 

Draco shook his head. “No, Harry,” the blond man said with a shake of his head as he moved Harry’s hand to his _own_ belly. “You misunderstand. I mean, yes, but...it’s no longer just you,” he whispered.

 

Harry frowned, but Draco could see when the information got through to the dark-haired man. It was like a light came on behind his eyes, the other man’s green orbs almost glowed.

 

“No way!”

 

Draco nodded. “ _Yes_ way!”

 

Harry stared for a moment, then burst out laughing. “This is just...”

 

“Unbelievable!” Draco finished for him.

 

“This is _brilliant_!”

 

Draco stared in disbelief. “Fuck you, Potter!” the blond snapped. “This wasn’t supposed to happen. _I_ was supposed to be done!”

 

Harry smiled sympathetically. “I know, love, but...” he shrugged, “it will be wonderful. I promise. Now the little one I carry won’t be alone. It will be like he or she has a twin.”

 

Draco snorted. “Unless he or she actually _has_ a twin! We’re looking at two for sure,” he said with a gesture between them. “But maybe more. We already have seven children, Harry. _Seven_! This is _insane_?!” He started to pace. “And how the fuck did this happen?”

 

Harry sighed. “I don’t know. I suppose we’ll have to break down and call Hermione. She’ll know...or quickly find out for us, yeah?” he said as he wrapped his arms around Draco and held him.

 

“It’s just...I wasn’t expecting this,” Draco said, a bit dazed by the news. “We weren’t _planning_ for this.”

 

“I know, but...such is life,” Harry said with a shrug.

 

Draco huffed.

 

“So, shall we go to bed?”

 

“I think I’ve rather lost the mood for...”

 

Harry laughed. “Well, I’m sure I can rectify that,” he said as he reached down and weaved his hand into his husband’s bathrobe.

 

Draco rolled his eyes. “Insatiable, you are...after all this time.”

 

“Always.”

 

“Cheeky.”

 

Chuckling, Harry leaned in and kissed him and said, “Don’t you just love it?”

 

“Hmm. Not too impressed with the cheek, but...to the insatiably part... _absolutely_!” was Draco’s response as he kissed back, loving every moment of Harry’s attention. Even now, nearly twelve and half years after they’d come together for the first time, they spent several hours every day worshiping either other’s bodies. They just could not get enough of each other and the pleasure they could bring to one another. It was perfect!

 

And now they had a whole new adventure ahead of them and they knew it would be wonderful. That...all would be well.

 

 

**The End**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I'm ending this here. I just...NEED it to be DONE! I started this fic sooo long ago (first posted on FFN on May 6, 2013 under the name Spirit of the Night Owl). It was supposed to be a one-shot, but it got totally out of hand! I blame the readers...as they asked me to continue. Lol. I hope you enjoyed it. Thank you to everyone who started reading this and who are still here at the end. A thousand thanks to those who left me kudos...and a million thanks to those of you who commented. I love knowing what people think. <3


End file.
